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On a quiet, moon lit, Wednesday night on an old backroad that follows the edge of the Soyoco County line, a patrol car marked with “Soyoco County Sheriff’s Department” sits waiting. The patrol car is parked just off of the road, in a picnic/ rest area.

“…. You have the right to remain silent, everything, no…. anything you say can be used against you..”

Tanner, a 23 year old, male, Border Collie/ Belgian Malinois mix practices the Miranda Rights speech as he sits in his patrol car, a 2007 Crown Vic that has seen better days, but being the new recruit on the force as well as having his dad be the sheriff of the law enforcement office that employs said recruit, Tanner definitely will not be given the “easy route” from his father if he plans to earn any respect from his fellow officers or his dad, Sheriff Connally. However his mother, Shaenne Cattlestaf, who happens to be the lead dispatch operator, only sees her precious baby boy, much to the embarrassment of the young canine.

“Dispatch to Unit 718, Tanner are you there, sweetie?”

Tanner hastily grabs for the mic that's connected to the radio in his car to reply back

With an exasperated sigh he begins to respond to the call as if it were a normal conversation with his mother but quickly corrects himself and replies to her using proper radio jargon

“Yes Mo- I mean ‘10-4, dispatch I copy”

“Oh goodness, honey its just me and you on the lines tonight, you can drop the “big bad policeman” thing now…”

“But Moooooom, dad said- I mean “Sheriff Connally” said that the radios are to only be used for official law enforcement business, no personal or prank calls on the lines or they’re will be serious repercussions”

“Correct, excellent recollection there, rook.”

A third, much deeper voice joins in on the radio chatter.

Tanner and Shaeanne, both immediately recognize the voice to belong to none other than Sheriff Walter ‘Walt’ Connally, father of Tanner and ex-husband of Sheanne.

“Thank you, sir!” Tanner replied

“Evening, Walt…” Sheanne responded, in a tone which could only be described as ‘a verbal eyeroll’

“I thought you clocked out already…”

“I was following up on the call about suspected ‘street racers’ meeting outside of town at the old gravel lot. Nothing but them Shankley siblings and their knucklehead friends showing off their ‘hot rods’.”

“10-4, sheriff. I assumed you informed them that ‘Fun is outlawed in Soyoco, as per the city ordinance.”

Sheanne sarcastically let out, mocking Walt’s due diligence with maintaining law and order, especially involving the Shankley family who Walt is suspected by the entire sheriff’s department as well as a majority of the citizens in Soyoco of holding a personal vendetta against.

“I wish you’d leave those poor Shankleys alone, Walt. They are the sweetest two siblings, god put on this Earth. You know for the past five years that girl, Dixie has donated 2 loaves of that wonderful banana bread she bakes herself to our Yearly Bake Sale?.. And that young man Sammy, he was the only person to stop and offer help when I had a flat out on Highway 17 last year. Hell, even that lil twink feller they took in and have been letting stay at their uncle’s place is a sweetheart. Little hunk too if I do say so….”

Walt cuts Shea of preemptively before she described the young coonhound in any lewder detail.

“Alright!... Alright Shea….. I get it. Despite popular consensus, I don’t hold a grudge against the Shankleys. Its that god forsaken Uncle of theirs I don’t trust. That bastard is up to something, I just know it…..”

A lull swept over the radio after that last statement, nothing but the tiny drone of the microphone feedback from the young deputy’s radio could be heard in the interior of his patrol car.

The momentary hiatus in dialogue was broken up by the deep baritone voice of Walt.

“Well, I believe that will do it for this ol’ dog’s shift. Pencil me out Shae, if you could please ma’am.”

“10-4 Walt, get home safe, please. Dispatch out”

“Will do, Walt out.”

Tanner thought about radioing in to tell he father ‘Good night” as well but the distinct *click* of a radio turning off could be heard, indicating that his father had signed off for the night.

A few moments passed before his mother radioed him again. This time using proper radio lingo.

“Dispatch to Unit 718, deputy Connally…”

The young malinois/collie mix answered, making sure not to fumble his words.

“Unit 7- Uh… I mean, Deputy Connally, go ahead…..”

“Honey, if you get hungry, come on back to the station for a quick second. I had Lucy pick up an extra Casear Salad when she got us our mid shift dinners. She’s gonna eat up here with me before she clocks out for the night.”

In the background a faint “Hi Tanner!” could be heard.

“Lucy says ‘Hi’”

Tanner, unable to brush off his mother’s kind gesture, responses back on the radio.

“Thanks, momma…”

Tanner innocently mutters out over the radio

“You’re welcome, sweetie.I love you and please stay safe out there. I’ll be here at the station for a few more hours, til my shift ends. I’ll radio before I head out the door.”

Tanner gives his mother the old double click of the mic button, an old 2 way radio way of saying “Affirmative” without saying a word.

Sometime after that last call in from his mother over the radio, Tanner had fallen asleep at his post.

The sudden chirp of the radio had woken him up, and his mother’s voice had wiped away and sleepiness from his impromptu nap.

“Distpatch to Unit 718, Tanner...I’m gonna head on home. After you clock out later, could you stop by the house, sweetie? I have a squeaky board on my porch steps that is just driving me batty.”

Tanner quickly grabs his mic from its mounting position on the radio to reply

“10-4, dispatch. Ummmm. Do you think …...uhhh….maybe you could you make your famous ‘taters and eggs for me when I get there, please….?”

Tanner said, with a tad bit of childish inflection in his voice. Almost knowing it would butter up his mom and ignite the maternal instincts she still very much possesses toward her only son.

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll be waiting on the porch by the time your clocked out and headed this way. Dispatch out”

“10-4, momm- I mean 10-4, Dispatch. 718 out.”

Tanner sets the mic back on its holder on the console mounted radio and peers at the clock on the dash.

“3:34 A.M. Only two and a half more hours til my shifts over. I’d say not to bad for your first one Connally. If I keep this up I’ll be the one inline for the sheriff’s position when dad retires for sure….”

The canine boasts to himself, about himself. Something that Tanner has definitely had a history of showing in high school much to the dismay of his parents, friends and teachers. The collie/malinois mix definitely showed signs of ‘Only Child Syndrome’.

After about half an hour passed following Tanner’s late night daydream of being the new sheriff of Soyoco county. All of the sudden Tanner began to hear the loud screaming roar of a true, straight pipe, dual exhaust connected to a big block V8 motor, coming from his left side up the little back road from the rest area the canine was stationed at. As he turned to identify the faint noise that slowly grew louder and louder as the seconds rolled by, he noticed a set of head lights that as they got closer, belonged to an old ‘80s square-body Chevrolet pickup truck. The truck showed no signs of slowing down from its break neck pace as it passed the patrol car at the entrance of the rest stop.

“Goddamn! That truck’s haulin’ ass!”

Tanner exclaimed as the mere act of the pickup passing the parked police car generated enough wind to slightly shake the long town car the young aspiring deputy was sitting in.

Not wanting to waste a moment, Tanner started his police car and gave chase to the pickup. It took more than a few moments but Tanner had caught up to the speeder, and maintained the proper distance from the thrill junkie. Tanner looked down at his gauges and concluded that the perp was maintaining a steady 75 mph, well above the posted 55 mph speed limit. Tanner kept up with the law breaker as the two flew down the two lane road that weaved between the hills and open fields of rural central Texas.

Tanner began to wonder why the perp had yet to show signs of slowing down until he realized:

The rookie deputy forgot the key element to successfully initiate a police chase, he never turn on his red and blues. Upon realizing his error, Tanner hit the switch to turn his emergency lights on, red and blue flashing lights lit up the immediate area around the police car in the dark, 4:00 A.M. early morning country sky.

Mere seconds after turning on the flashing colored lights the junky pickup truck in front of the police car began to slow down, even turning on his right side blinker, signaling to the deputy that he’s “Looking for the best place to pull over and stop at.”

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the old pickup pulled over and began to slow to a near halt, with the police car following behind, at a flat gravel covered area on the side of the desolate back road. As both vehicles came to a complete stop, almost in sync, Tanner began to take deeper and more rapid breathes as the tension between the two began to set in.

“Okay, Tanner you got this. You are NOT just Tanner, you’re ‘Deputy Connally with the goddamn Soyoco Sheriff’s department.’ Yeeahh… ‘So license and registration, cocksucker!”

Tanner, hyping himself up but quickly realizing that ‘Good Cop with Nothing Left to Lose’ approach may not be the appropriate way to go about his first ever traffic stop.

“Jesus, Tanner….”

Tanner quietly said to himself, embarrassed about the fake persona he had crafted for himself in that moment. He began to exit his patrol car, he stood up and took one last deep breath, slowly exhaled, as he drew his flashlight from his utility belt and began the 100 foot stroll to the driver side of the old pickup.

The young deputy’s heart began to beat harder and louder, the ambient sounds of the early morning wind rustling through the live oak trees and the chorus of cicadas and crickets all faded away and were replaced with the steady increasing thumping echoing in his ears as he approached the truck..

When he arrived at the driver side window, he noticed that the window had already been rolled down.

“License and registration, please”

Tanner asked in a friendly but authoritative tone as he darted his flash light throughout the interior from the driver side window of the single cab pickup.

Tanner caught a quick glimpse of the driver as he haphazardly shined the flashlight in the driver’s presence.

The Driver appeared to be a lanky, 30 something year old coonhound mix Wearing a balaclava looking directly at Tanner with very a confused, almost concerned look in his eye.

“Good Evening…….sir?…..”

Tanner was overcome with a sense of confusion, letting his greeting to the mutt fade out upon seeing the masked canine sitting in the driver seat. Tanner decides to repeat his opening line, hoping it would drive home the seriousness of his request.

“License and Registration, sir…. And uhhh… can you remove the mask for me, please?”

The deputy asked in a stern tone of voice, some would say a damn near spot on impression of his father.

The hound in the truck sat there for a second to process the request then almost reluctantly shook his head “No” and continued to stare at Deputy Connally.

All off the sudden, mere moments after the hound shook his head, Tanner noticed the eyes of the hound in the truck went wide as if something terrifying was approaching the deputy from behind.

By the time Tanner caught a glimpse of the sudden change of hound’s face, but it was too late.

Large, heavy footsteps rapidly approached from behind the deputy, and as they reached directly behind the collie/malinois a large, calloused hand grabbed Tanner at the left rear side of his head, and with a very sudden and violent motion, drove the opposite side of the deputy’s head into the roof of the old pickup truck, concussing the young deputy and causing him to collapse to the ground next to the old pickup.

“Good acting, cubscout. Radio T, and tell him to bring my truck over here and help me mov…”

Was the last thing Tanner remembers hearing was before he fell unconscious.

The sound of metal chains clattering against pavement was the first sound Tanner hear as he regained conscience., followed by the shutter noise of a smartphone taking a picture. Tanner’s eyelids began to flicker open, his mind attempting to process the environment around him, the early morning sunrise making opening his eyes a strenuous task.

“What’s huh?….. Oooohhh my head……”

Tanner groans as he attempts to rub the aching spot on his forehead, only to find that both wrists and feet are bound outward leaving the canine in a spread eagle position. A sudden, and cool breeze felt between his thighs also alerts him to the fact that he is no longer wearing his regulation uniform.

Panic starts to set in, only amplified by the sight of a large opposing figure entering his vision from the left side. The figure remains a black silhouette until Tanner’s eyes begin adjusting to the morning sun.

As the darkness of the silhouette begins to fade and the deputy’s eyes begin to focus on the figure, several notable features on the large male opossum. A milky left eye, a scarred up chest and a large toothy grin, made up of teeth that are sharp, jagged and discolored. Just as Tanner begins to recognize who the large, intimidating, individual is, he greets the canine.

“Hello…… Deputy……”

The figure lets out in a deep, imposing tone that sends shills down Tanner’s bound back.

“Do you know who I am?”

The opossum continues, this time waiting a second for the scared deputy to answer his question

“Y-Y-You’re Slay-yton Sh-Shankly….”

Tanner replies, shaken at the revelation of who’s presence he is in, not to mention the unfortunate circumstances he finds himself in as well.

“Ding, ding, ding…. Well I guess your daddy did learn you a thing or two before putting you ‘on the beat’ so to say, he he he…” the possum’s laughter fades off as he walks out of the deputy’s limited sight range.

“Did’ja know I was the one that put that hole in his ear? Your daddy I mean, Yeah during the Big Raid of ‘08, hell you probably still shittin’ your britches back then….”

Slayton recollects, out of sight of the deputy

“P-Please, don’t kill me….”

Tanner, unsure where this interaction will mean of his near future begins to grovel and sob for the mercy of the infamous, career criminal, possum.

Slayton walks back into eye sight of the terrified canine, whose eyes are notably puff and red accompanied by wet streams flowing backward down the side of his face and puddle against the metal surface the deputy is bound too.

“Kill you? Hahahaha. Hey, cubscout get a load of Ms. Dramatic over here, hahaha.”

The possum begins to mock the scared deputy’s pleads for life to a second individual just out of Tanner’s sight.

“Kid, I ain’t gon kill you. It just so happens you’ve been chosen to help deliver a ‘message’ to your daddy for me, hehehe…”

The possum humored by his own devious idea

“W-Whatever you gotta tell dadd-, I mean the sheriff, I will make sure it is directly relayed to him, no questions, sir”

Tanner affirmed, attempting to appease his captors by enthusiastically agreeing to whatever demands they may ask of him or the Soyoco Sheriffs department.

“Oh, well that’s might kind of ya, Mr. Deputy. But I went ahead and took the liberty of ‘filing my complaints’ on your patrol car’s back window.”

Suddenly Tanner became a little bit more aware of his situation. Sometime between the deputy being knocked unconscious and now, Slayton and his possible accomplice, ‘Cubscout’, had stripped Tanner down to nothing but his underwear and tied him to the hood of his patrol car and towed the car to another location. Using his intuition and recognizing some identifying marks in his peripherals Tanner had determined that the trio were in front of the Sheriffs Station. Judging by the position of the sun in the early morning sky, Tanner knew that the town would begin to wake and the very tame hustle and bustle of small town commerce would start, it also meant that the young deputy’s father would be arriving soon to open up the station and begin the routine of getting the days task’s underway.

“Oh no, oh no no no no….”

Panic begins to set in the young canine’s mind. His limbs starts trembling in fear of being so exposed in public like this, seconds go by which in Tanner’s mind feel like eons. His entire body begins to succumb to the nervousness, notably a certain appendage on full display to his two captors.

“Oh my… Slayton, look!”

A softer, less grizzled voice that isn’t familiar to Tanner in the slightest, points out the ‘rising situation’ unraveling before them.

“WOAH, Hello there! You sure this the best time to apply lipstick, deputy? Ha hahaha!

Slayton viciously mocking the rising erection protruding from the front flap of the deputy’s boxers.

“Why me, oh god why me?!”

Tanner, attempting to fight his body’s strange reactions to the situation before him.

Slayton, while staring at the modest member of the aspiring lawdog, he comes up with a brilliant idea, one that surely his little partner in crime would enjoy.

“Hey, cubscout!”

The still masked hound turns to Slayton, answering the call with a subtle “Hmmm?”

“Hey throw me your phone, lets gets some pictures of you posing with the ‘Not so Longarm of the Law’ in Soyoco.”

The masked hound takes a minute to process what the older possum actually meant and you could almost see his cheeks blush through the balaclava the hound wore.

“Ohh… heheh”

The hound side steps closer to the captive as the opossum holding the phone signals him to get closer so the two could be in frame of the picture. After a couple of static images of the two Slayton begins to call out poses that the hound should try with the exposed piece of mutt meat.

“Alright, now one where your mad at each other, now one with a funny face, hahaha….”

All of a sudden the situation became to much for the young deputy and as a last line of defense his body could do the only thing it could in the moment and….

“Woah! Ah ha!, Did he….?! PPPPFFFTTTTTTT- AH HA HA HA!!!”

Slayton begins to crack up at the sight before him.

‘Cubscout’ slowly steps away, almost flattered at the reaction he got from the deputy.

Tanner, embarrassed beyond reprieve, wished he could be anywhere but here.

Slayton, recovering from the hearty laugh at the sight of the pathetic scene, just so happens to glance down at his watch and realize its time to leave.

“Oh Shit! Cubscout! We gotta go! But first...”

But before leaving Slayton hustles over to the front of the patrol car, bending his middle finger toward the center of his paw with his thumb on his right hand, whilst raising his right arm with his elbow bent. Cocking back the his hand above, past his head.

“Let Wally have one of these, compliments of Slayton..”

Slayton proceeds to bring his hand down, releasing all that pent up energy in his arm to send the most devastating flick to the right testicle of the young deputy. Tanner lets out a loud and quick yelp, then he begins fighting at the bindings holding him to the hood of his car. He then whimpers as he is unable to cradle his ‘family jewels”

Slayton jogs back to his truck, double checking to make sure he’s disconnected from the patrol car the hopes into the driver seat, followed by the masked hound hopping into the passenger side. In less than a heartbeat the large one ton pickup truck was outta sight.

A Hour Passes...

Walt begins to pull into the front of the Sheriff’s offices, unlocking the building like he normally does every morning. But this morning is a bit… unusual… to say the least. Instead of being greeted by an empty parking lot like every morning, Walt focuses on the lone car in the front parking lot of the sheriff’s station.

“Son of a ….”

Walt says to himself as he realizes what he’s looking at: his son, tie to the hood of his assigned patrol car, naked as the day he was born, with a shocked look of complete humiliation on his face as he sees his father pulling in. The cherry on top however is the note spray painted on the back window which reads:

“How’s this for a PI, Wally?”

Walt bangs the steering wheel with his fists, cursing a certain elderly possum’s name…

“SLAYTON!!”

The End