Hyper Music
15 January 2007
Sgt. Amber Sandles was considering her options. After skillfully gaining an confession from Fern for the murder of Dr. Jeffrey Fishbait she found out that some evidence that contradicted that information: the fact that the vampires were claiming responsibility. Her first assumption was that Fern was a vampire. So Amber exposed Fern to sunlight just to make sure. But no, she was fine. A little drooling but she was doing that all over the place anyway. A little mumbling about the end of the world. But again, she was doing that everywhere - there no correlation between her craziness and the amount of sunshine she was being exposed to. So Fern was not a vampire.
Well this just didn't make any sense. Why would Fern kill Jeffrey for the vampires? Amber just couldn't get her head around it. There wasn't much that Amber couldn't get her head around - so this was a concern for the Cable police force - as Amber was the best they had, a legend in her own right.
So Amber sat at her thinking chair and thought. Sucking on the end of her thinking pencil she grabbed her thinking mug and drank her thinking tea. Frankly, since she had surrounded herself with so many items that were meant to enhance her thinking, Amber was just confused that she couldn't make the connection. Then entering through the door and kicking her thinking ball out of the way was the most annoying man alive.
Mr. Brown. The guy who represented the police minister.
"Sgt. Amber Sandles?"
"What?"
"The police minister has just been informed of the situation here in Cable. We're moving in. You failed."
"Excuse me? I have not failed. You failed."
"Please explain to me how I have failed, I just got here."
"Look, it's all sweetballs down here. Everything is fine. I have the murderer of the lentil dude"
"No. You don't."
"I have a confession right here. Fern did it."
"The vampires have claimed responsibility. We could be on the outbreak of a vampire war Sgt. Sandles. Your Fern had nothing to do with it."
"Please. I don't make mistakes. If I say Fern did it, Fern did it."
"What's the connection between Fern and the vampires then?"
"It's simple. The vampires are lying."
"Why?"
"I don't know. They're bored. I'd be to if I hang out in that shitty bar all day drinking Russian Caravan tea."
"You're off the case."
"You can never take me off this case. I'm a big monkey in this town Mr Brown. You're only fit to feed me the bananas. Dance banana boy!"
"You're off the case. The ministry is controlling things from now on. Go investigate the missing turtles from the pet shop."
"What? Joey, Kate and Coco are gone?"
"Yeah. Tragic case."
It took Amber a while for her to realise she had been had. Joey, Kate and Coco were fine. She just wished she hadn't called up the forensic team to investigate since they had completely destroyed the pet shop. She gave them the winning smile and left - determined to know what the vampires were up to. She was going to Suckles.
"Oh my... I am so lonely! So terribly lonely!
Why does everything happen to me?
I'm a lost shrew in the eternal forest of misery!"
Suckles doesn't normally attract the most hip bands of the time. Normally, it caters for a more sophisticated kind of crowd - the depressed ones. Vampires, unless totally drunk off Russian Caravan Tea and fake blood are generally the miserable type. You see, they've been through it all. They don't die (unless stabbed in the heart with a wooden stake or had full skin contact with a cross saturated in holy water... you know, all that normal crap that is normally bought out... frankly a good dose of Coronation Street will also do the trick) and these vampires, they see a lot in their times, and when you live in the darkness like them. It's not all lollipops, sunshine, puppy dogs and Britney Spears. No. It's dark, depressing, death and Christina Aguilera. So, the most popular bands amongst the vampire types tends to be kind of depressing. Almost Emo. But not quite, because those guys are pussies.
Tonight saw John Smith playing, that wasn't his real name. His real name is actually kind of cool, but he wanted to prove that he was just another mindless sheep among us and so made his name the most common one out of there.
But really, I've never met a John Smith. Can't be that common.
Smithy-Dog didn't need a microphone, his misery was so great that no microphone was needed. He got up there with his pitiful guitar (he could afford a cool one but that just wouldn't fit the image) and sung. And no one really noticed.
Back to the story, Sgt. Amber Sandles had just entered. This was her second time in Suckles, she visited once in her first week on the job and never returned. It just wasn't the place she needed to bother with. These Vampires were all washed up... They had no desire to return to the glory days of killing off innocent human beings. But now she was back, because it appeared she was wrong. This didn't sit well with Amber. She was never wrong. Never. Ever. Goddamn it, there was someone on that grassy knoll, the moon landings never happened and her fucking neighbour stole her recycling bin. She was right about those. She was right about this. The vampires had nothing to do with the murder of Dr. Jeffrey Fishbait. Nothing. Zip.
So, she went to the bar. The bartender gave her a big stare.
"You're not welcome here."
Amber knew how to handle this.
"This $100 bill in my pocket says otherwise."
She handed over the money. The bartender looked at it and spat on it.
"It's a $5 bill. And it's the old currency. The shit one that I can rip up easily. Not like the new stuff, I can even put the new currency through the washing machine. Fucking awesome. Anyway, what the fuck? We changed over currency years ago."
Amber took back her money and said shit-burgers in her head. She was never going to get rid of that stupid old currency.
"Fine, so you know the trends in currency production. Good. Proves you're smarter than the average person of undead status. Good to know you're swimming in the right lane."
Amber never swam in the right lane. She'd always swim right into someone and they'd always be all super hostile.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, retard?"
Then she'd arrest them, under the charges of being a complete dick.
Back to Suckles now. The bartender was impressed with Amber's compliments and decided to give her some information.
"Fine there sunshine, you want to know about the lentil guy? You want to talk to little Lady Anika over there. Her minions did it."
She left a tip. But he wouldn't take it. Amber was never going to get rid of that stupid old currency. Why'd they have to change? She moved over to Lady Anika's table. Sat down.
"What's your game Anika? I know you didn't really kill the good doctor. I don't see your angle. I don't think it exists even If I could see it. It's like you're 380 degrees off target there."
Lady Anika looked at her minions.
"Does anyone know what she's on about? I was fine until she bought up angles."
Amber decided to dumb it down. Vampires were a bit slow it appeared.
"Look here. I don't care why you're doing this. Stop claiming responsibility for the murder when you didn't do it."
"But we did do it."
"I don't believe you."
"Why not? We left so much evidence."
"No you didn't. The crime scene was amazingly clean."
"No it wasn't."
"I still don't get your game. I'll take you down Anika. I'm right. We'll all see. We'll all fucking see."
Lady Anika smiled.
"Fine. Don't believe me. I'm going to try to convince you. See you tomorrow."
"I don't think so. I decided when any seeing takes place. Not you. Me."
"Just you wait little lollipop."
Amber left Suckles. John Smith was finishing with his last song. A fan favourite.
"Stab Me! I want to feel my life end!
I hate you so much. So please stab me!
Motherfucker!"
A strict morning routine is normally found with cops. Not Amber. Routine to her was like the combination of chocolate and milk. Odd.
This particular morning was a special one. She decided to have a shower. Unfortunately she didn't get to go through with it. Standing in the bathroom was Lady Anika and her minions.
"Hello Amber. I told you we'll be seeing each other soon."
"What do you want you non-murderer? You disgust me."
Lady Anika drew back the curtains of the shower. At the bottom was Amber's partner. Sgt. Zeverin Drains. He was dead. A nail protruded from his neck.
"Oh fuck."
Posted byBren at 1:44 am
Labels: Cable
