I have a neighbour, Tony, (Tonys are everywhere. My daughter’s boyfriend is Tony, my barber is Tony, one of the guys who works for me is Tony, My godson is Tony…) is a bit of a practical joker. Sunday he came over with two jugs of wine, so I knew something was up. A friend of his, whom I’ve never met, is nearing his 50th birthday, and it was decided that there would be a party at this friend’s house Friday night. His wife and two daughters are in Italy and it’s going to be stag. Just the guys.
Tony tells me that Mr.________ (henceforth to be known as “the victim”) is terrified of the police. Not that he’s a criminal. Quite the contrary. It’s some kind of phobia or something. Now I have a friend, Dennis, who is a Police Constable and I’ve introduced him to Tony a few years back. Dennis comes over fairly often to mooch a meal because he’s divorced and too lazy to cook. If Tony is outside, he’ll wave or come over and we’ll sit in the backyard and tell lies.
So Tony wants me to ask Dennis to come to the party in uniform, knock on the door, and rough the victim up, verbally of course. And threaten to arrest him on some trumped up charge. Everyone will be in on it except the victim.
I said that it wasn’t really that funny, and to think of something else. Tony said, “No. This is perfect. It’s genius. It’s brilliant. This guy will tremble like a bowl of jello. If Dennis does it right, the guy will piss in his pants.”
So I said, “I like it. I’ll call Dennis.”
I called Dennis and he said no way. “I could lose my job for a stunt like that.”
I give Tony the bad news, but Tony is no quitter. He says, “So you do it. Borrow Dennis’ uniform and you be the cop.” So I’m thinking, Dennis is 6’2" and over 200 pounds. I’m 5’11" and 175. The uniform will be baggy, but the victim probably won’t notice.
Again Dennis says no.
By this time, I’m caught up in this, and I really want to do it.
Then I got an idea. I call Dennis back and say, “We’ll both go. You’re the Constable and I’m the plain clothes detective. Let me do all the talking. That way, if there’s any backlash, you were just attending the party. You never said a word. You’ll be in uniform because we wanted to take pictures. But nobody will say anything because they’re all in it. Be a pal. Please. Tony will give you a couple of huge jugs of wine.”
Dennis says, “You know I don’t drink, asshole.”
I said, “Exactly. That’s the beauty of it. You can give the wine to me. And the wife will make stuffed peppers next time you come over.”
Anyways, he finally agreed to it, although very reluctantly. He made me promise not to take it too far or he would stop it.
“You owe me big for this, jerkoff,” he says.
“Right. And Tony owes me. Get it from him,” says I.
I’m going to see if I can buy a fairly realistic set of handcuffs. (Dennis won’t let me use his) I probably won’t cuff him, but I’ll make sure he sees them.
I will post the result of this little stunt on Saturday. Unless it’s a dud. Tony will bring a small tape recorder, presumably to torment the victim from time to time.