The city looked dead long before the first lights of the police cruisers brought life to the night. A once-bustling district, now fenced off with warning tape. The official story said it was condemned. The real story was simpler.
Anthrax had claimed it.
The moment the first barricade went up, Anthrax was all set to play. The so-called “police cruiser” wove its way as carelessly as its driver’s mental state. He reached across the passenger seat where his “case files” lay stacked. Manila folders covered in crayon scribbles and blood smears. Each bore a name.
He picked one up, licked the edge of the paper.
Occifer Anthrax: Tonight’s suspect! Humanity! The charge? Unlicensed existence!
The radio crackled again, the voice eerily similar to that of Twisted Sister, “All units respond!”
“Already here, boss.”
He parked the cruiser in the center of the empty intersection. Anthrax stepped out. His uniform looked almost authentic, if you ignored the clown-painted badge and the holster that held nothing but a water pistol. His baton swung from his belt, which was really nothing more than a pepperoni he had “liberated” from an Italian deli.
He took the megaphone from the hood of the car, raised it to his mouth and called aloud…
Occifer Anthrax: Attention, citizens of the quarantine zone! By order of the Department of Smiles and Sanity, you are all hereby under investigation for crimes against laughter! You have the right to remain joyful! Anything you say can and will be turned into a punchline!
The words echoed across the dead streets. He dropped the megaphone to the ground and started skipping along the pavement. He turned the corner into an alley and halfway down, he saw a flicker of movement. A man, homeless and gaunt, wrapped in a blanket that had seen better centuries, was watching him from behind a trash can. The man’s eyes darted toward the glowing cruiser lights.
Occifer Anthrax: Ah ha! We have oourselves a witness! Fantastic!
He reached for his notebook and pounced, smiling wide and on all fours right in the frightened man's face.
Occifer Anthrax: Name?
Transient: R-Rob.
Anthrax scribbled wildly.
Occifer Anthrax: Rob the Citizen. Perfect! Tell me, Rob! How do you plead to the charge of existing after curfew?
Rob the Transient: What? I don’t….
Occifer Anthrax: Objection overruled! You were caught loitering near laughter. That’s a level-five misdemeanor of joy suppression.
Rob the Transient: I haven't done anything, officer!
Occifer Anthrax: Oh, of course you haven’t. That’s what they all say!
He leaned in, nose to nose.
Occifer Anthrax: Tell me Rob, when’s the last time you smiled?
Rob blinked, confused.
Rob the Transient: I dunno. Weeks, maybe?
Anthrax gasped theatrically.
Occifer Anthrax: Weeks! WEEKS without smiling! That’s a felony in my book!
He pulled out a roll of yellow tape marked “Crime Scene” and began circling the man, wrapping it around the trash cans, the walls, even Rob’s ankle.
Occifer Anthrax: By the authority vested in my imagination, I hereby quarantine your depression! Consider yourself detained!
Rob the Transient: You’re crazy!
Anthrax pressed a finger to his painted lips.
Occifer Anthrax: Shhhh! Don’t make it sound so boring! Crazy’s such an overused word. I prefer … seasoned. But don’t worry, Rob. You’ll get your smile back. Everyone does — eventually.
He patted the man’s cheek, then turned away, whistling as he vanished into the fog. Behind him, Rob ripped off the tape and bolted down the street!
Back at his cruiser, the radio crackled again.
Occifer Twisted Sister: Unit 13, report!
Anthrax: Suspect contained, emotional contamination spreading! Recommend escalation!
Occifer Twisted Sister: Copy that! Initiate Code 666!
He froze, and then grinned - his bloodshot eyes lighting up.
Occifer Anthrax: Permission granted to go nuts, huh? You shouldn’t have!
He twisted the radio dial until the static became music, some warped version of a children’s rhyme. He swayed with it, eyes closed and letting the siren lights wash over his painted skin. After a moment, he opened his notebook and scrawled his final report.
“Case: Code 666!
Status: Ongoing!
Perpetrators: Everyone! Naughty, naughty!
The sentence: Eternal laughter!”
He tore the page free and stuffed it into his mouth and began to chew while giggling. He then leaned back and saluted.
Occifer Anthrax: Case closed!
The Interrogation Room
A single light swung overhead, casting shadows across cracked tile and a rusted one-way mirror. A chair sat at the center of the room. In it was a mannequin dressed like an officer, with a glossy photograph of Liam Davis’s sour puss face taped over the head. Across the table, the real Anthrax leaned forward and slapped a folder down on the table.
Occifer Anthrax: Well, well, well! Looky at what we got here! Case file Liam Davis, the Angry Cop! Charges include excessive frowning, aggravated mood swings, and first-degree murder of fun! How do you plead, officer?
He grabbed the mannequin’s jaw and puppeted it, using a gravelly voice.
Mannequin Liam: I’m innocent, you psycho!
Occifer Anthrax: Ha! Wrong answer! You see, the law didn’t care about innocence or the facts! It only cared about the show!
He stood, pacing the room.
Occifer Anthrax: Liam Davis, you liked to scream, didn’t you? You liked to throw your badge around, snarl like a mean ol’ doggy because somebody didn’t salute you fast enough! Oh! You’ve got anger issues, you say? Well so did I, cupcake! The difference was mine were entertaining!
He slammed his hands on the table, nose to nose with the mannequin.
Occifer Anthrax: When you blew up, it was just ugly! When I blew up…!
He suddenly laughed hysterically, pulling a handful of confetti from his coat and tossing it in the air!
Occifer Anthrax: It was fun!
He leaned close to the mannequin, whispering conspiratorially.
Occifer Anthrax: You patrolled the streets thinking you were keeping order. You wanted to hand out citations for chaos? Chaos was my badge! You thought the law protected you, but you’re in my precinct now!
He crouched low beside the mannequin, mimicking its voice again.
Mannequin Liam: You can’t scare me, clown!
Occifer Anthrax: Scare you!? Oh, I don’t want to scare you. I want to cheer you upI I want to slap a smile across that angry little mug of yours till you spit out your teeth and they spell mercy!
He grabbed a broken mirror shard from the table, holding it up to the mannequin’s taped face.
Occifer Anthrax: See that? That’s what happiness looks like, officer!
He threw the mirror against the wall, causing it to shatter into a million bajillion pieces!
Occifer Anthrax: Your temper’s a ticking bomb, Liam! You thought it made you dangerous. But me? I was the one holding the detonator, and I was laughing while I pushed the button!
He planted his hands on the table, leaning forward.
Occifer Anthrax: When the bell rings, officer, you’ll come to understand that wasn’t a match. It was an interrogation! And I’m gonna ask the same question over and over till you crack! And when you finally do, when the mask of authority falls off and you start screaming…
He backs up a step and giggles, shaking his finger at the mannequin.
Occifer Anthrax: That’s when I’d know I’d done my job! Because anger fades, but laughter? It lasts forever!
Anthrax flipped the table, scattering papers everywhere and then grabbed the mannequin by the collar, pulling it inches from his painted grin!
Occifer Anthrax: So go ahead, Officer Davis! Bring your badge! Bring your rage! Bring your precious code of conduct! I’ll bring the punchline!
He dropped the mannequin and straightened his crooked tie.
Occifer Anthrax: This interrogation’s over. Case closed! And the verdict? Liam Davis is guilty of taking life too seriously!
He saluted, tilted his head back and burst into shrieking laughter!
Occifer Anthrax: Smile, Liam! it’s gonna hurt a lot less that way!
