Breathing heavily, I sit myself at my computer. My heart pounds, my fingers tremble, as I type these words. I attempt to relax. I tell myself that it’s all over now. In my mind, I repeat in a gentle whisper that everything’s all right. Be calm, insists the final vestiges of my near-exhausted will, be calm now. But I cannot.
I cannot…for I know that, somewhere out there, cloaked in the nigh-impenetrable darkness of the depths of the mind itself, lurks The Most Evil Guy In The World. Yes, he is out there…and he’s waiting. Waiting for me.
He follows me, you see. Never have I heard his voice, nor looked into his eyes; not once has he approached me face-to-face. Even so, he follows, and I know that he is near. I cannot forget his presence, he ensures it; this despite the fact that I know nothing of him. I know not identity, nor his crimes; I know not what heinous sin must taint his blackened soul. I know only that he is The Most Evil Guy In The World, and that he still roams free…waiting. Waiting for me.
How is it, then, that I can be so certain of his presence?
I know it because they have told me so. They have told me through their actions, their most evident desperation, their boundless zeal to stop him whatever the cost. It is clear that they are far more versed on his history than I.
Who, then, are they?
They are our heroes, our protectors, our champions of justice and enforcers of the people’s will. They are the Police.
Plattsburgh, New York, one year ago – I am driving down Upper Cornelia street, a four-lane road that serves as city’s main commercial thoroughfare. There is a median between the lanes, and stoplights every few dozen yards. I head down this road, blissfully unaware that occupying the car directly ahead of me is…The Most Evil Guy In The World. Luckily for me, you, and the rest of humanity, a noble policeman is there to save the day…the only trouble is, he’s headed in the opposite direction. But not to worry! This minor inconvenience does not daunt such a hero! Immediately upon spying The Most Evil Guy, the policeman turns on his lights, starts his siren blaring, and executes a dashingly illegal high-speed, tire-squealing U-turn from the nearest left turn entrance! Indeed, his eagerness to stop The Guy is so powerful, he barely takes notice that this sudden maneuver is somewhat obstructed by the existence of the driver’s side of my car! Inherently sensing the gravity of the situation, I readily make way for the officer by jerking the wheel to the right as quickly as possible, shooting me blindly across a thankfully empty lane of traffic and onto the shoulder. Stopping for a moment to collect my thoughts, I watch as the intrepid lawman pulls the car that was in front of me over. Upon reflection, it is fortunate for all of us that the officer was able to recognize The Most Evil Guy so quickly; I would never have been able to do the same in his position, as The Guy in his vast cunning was not even violating any traffic laws I could detect. Still, it appears that despite the officer’s vigilance, The Guy was able to escape, because…
Roanoke, Virginia, five months later – I am driving down the interstate headed to see my friends at a nearby college. Driving five miles per hour above the speed limit, I approach one of the many semi trucks that inexplicably insist on doing 50 in the lefthand lane on this stretch, and prepare to overtake it on the right, all the while oblivious to the fact that directly in front of me sits…The Most Evil Guy In The World. Behind me, however, an eagle-eyed Virginia state trooper takes immediate notice of this. Springing into action, this defender of law and order hits his lights and siren and jumps into the left lane. Spying his lights in the rear view mirror, I – now sitting beside the truck, whose driver has decided to speed up to play Don’t Let The Four-Banger Pass – begin to reduce my speed to leave a hole for the officer to pass me. My error, it seems, is in my failure to recognize that the trooper was after not just anyone, but The Most Evil Guy In The World, and therefore my actions were insufficient to the cause. Thankfully, this does not deter our hero; when he reaches the then-approximately-three-inch gap between my front end and the back of the truck, he boldly proceeds to insert his vehicle into it anyway. Not wishing to slow him any more than I already have, I ease to the right, thus removing my passenger-side mirror on the concrete wall that takes the place of the shoulder on this particular stretch of highway (this being why I did not immediately pull to the right in the first place) and doing quite the attractive renovation of my paint job. Coasting to a stop, there I sit, watching, as the trooper’s blue lights fade into the horizon and out of my sight, hot in pursuit of The Most Evil Guy. I guess he never did catch up with him, though, because…
Blacksburg, Virginia, earlier tonight – I am driving down a four-lane highway with a median. Traffic is light…I see no other cars going in my direction, though off in the distance, there is a pair of headlights coming at me in the opposite direction. Just as I approach a stoplight, that car passes me. The stoplight is green in my direction, and which, due to the lack of apparent headlights anywhere on the cross street, I assume will remain so until I have safely passed. I will soon find out, however, just what happens when I assume, for unbeknowst to me, the car that has just passed me contains…The Most Evil Guy In The World. Proving that I must be the luckiest man in the universe, there is, yet again, a valiant policeman available to attend to the matter. Revealing himself from the shadows of the ingenious speed trap he had laid on the cross-street to my right, he plants his foot on the gas, flying across my lane in a sweeping left turn to apprehend The Guy. At this point, I, noting that my current trajectory would most likely place the gallant officer’s hood in the general vicinity of my passengers seat – and furthermore that, at my current speed, hitting the brakes would do little but have me T-bone the police car instead – I execute the only option available to me that allows our mighty champion of peace to continue unhindered, and throw the car into a stuntman-style powerslide onto the cross-street to the right. Coming within inches of the brave centurion’s chariot, I miraculously remain on the pavement, narrowly avoiding sliding into the ditch on the side of the cross-street. As I slowly creep back into the proper lane, I once again watch as the lights and siren disappear into the night.
I hope beyond hope that that stoic policeman succeeded in catching The Guy, and putting an end to his horrible reign…but I know better. Brave though the Police may be, he’s too cunning, too wily, too evil to allow them to capture him. He’s The Most Evil Guy In The World, and he’s still out there. In some unexceptional car, on some moonlit road in parts unknown, he drives, and he waits. Waits…always…for me.
May the Police watch over my immortal soul.
Come to think of it, maybe I’m The Most Evil Guy In The World. That would explain why the police seem so intent upon killing me.
