“They stole them!” The middle-aged woman snapped exasperatedly at the two cops that came in response to her 911 call.

Officer Donalds pinched himself to make him choose his words more effectively. 

“Ma’am, from the box that we just walked past to get to your door?” he said politely.

“Yes! Right there! They just came on my property and took-”

“Ma’am- technically, the box that you put out there…is on the sidewalk, which is public property.”

“But still! I didn’t give them to-”

“Ma’am- there’s still a sign IN the box that says Free lemons, please-” his partner Reynolds groaned, fed up with this woman.

“Not them! Not those kind of-”the old biddy hissed. “They take Everything!” she cried out.”Fucking freeloaders!”

“Ma’am, is anyone else here with you?” Officer Donalds asked gingerly, looking for any excuse to write this off.

“I told you not to call the cops, Marge!” an old man yelled from in the house.

“They Stole our lemons!” she barked back into the drabbest house on the cul de sac.

“Marge, it’s fucking against the law now to call-” her old man bellowed from inside the house, exasperatedly.

“It used to be against the fucking law for them to even be allowed to walk so casually over in these here parts- That’s why we moved here!” she yelled back over her shoulder defiantly. “If they didn’t know better, they would have soon enough! We used to be able to give’em just what was coming to’em, we did! Coming over here messing up the property values of decent people like us! They used to know better!”

Officer Reynolds looked around at the yard full of weeds and bald spots in front of this chipped paint covered house with the sagging roof that this bloated, beady-eyed, slack-jawed woman who was middle aged but not old enough to not know better preened in front of like it was Buckingham Palace.

Seeing it in his eyes, Officer Donalds shook his head and with a flourish , gave Reynolds the floor.

“Who, Ma’am?” Officer Reynolds asked endearingly.

“Who what?” the Old woman asked distractedly.

“Don’t do it, Marge~” her old man called out from the house.

“Who used to know better, Ma’am?”

“Well, The wetbacks and the Niggers, of course! The chinks! All of’er-” Marge whinnied, her eyes wet with memories of the good old days. “The whole neighborhood would turn out for the Barbeques, too~It only took us getting our hands on one to string on up to send the- Hey! What are you doing!? Unhand me! Take your hands off of me!” Marge cauterwauled to no avail. “Dan! Daaaan! They’re Arresting me?!? Omg! Help-”

She wailed over her miranda rights being read to her.

“Told you don’t call them, Marge~” Dan yowled out from inside the house as his stupid wife was loaded up into the paddy wagon and hauled off for admitting to having participated in some kind of hate crime. He did not bother moving a muscle.

“it’ll give her something good to cry about at church for the next few,” he chuckled to himself.

“Hopefully, she’ll use that one telephone call they’re always talking about on TV to rope in that piece of shit son of hers that she ruined to come bail her out.”

Either way, tonight was going to be the best sleep he’d gotten in ages. He turned up the game. 

©AngelBrynner.