Tuesday, March 25, 2008


Justice was Served...the Pizza was not.

Yeah, so I'm 3 days late on posting. Screw my schedule I set forth, I'm too busy with my day job and life in general to stick to it. I wish I could keep it up, I love writing and the somewhat-loyal following that I have, I just never slow down. If I try to adhere to a strict schedule, I'll just churn out shit for posts, and no one wants that. I will commit to posting as often as possible, but if my hectic schedule gets any crazier, we may see a Spork Nation hiatus. That being said, I present a Cops-style The Idiot Speaks. Following is the story of how I assisted in apprehending a felon, plus a bonus interview with some of those responsible for the sting operation.

Someone had been writing stolen checks all over 5 Points (the downtown, college area of Columbia.) This guy was good. He had a matching ID that was convincing, and was congenial to everyone who served him. He did not stand out as suspicious at all. Unfortunately for him, he tried his luck one too many times. When he called in his pick up order, Mo recognized his name and order (he had routinely been ordering two large Village Specials.) He relayed the information to Brian, who proceeded to call Columbia's Finest to come pick the guy up.

Instantly, the barstaff is geared up. It's been a slow night, and this situation screams excitement. My designated role is to stall the guy while the cop gets in place, make sure he hands me the check, and asks for change back. Presumably, the only other step is for the cop to nab the perp. Easy enough, right? Clearly you have never had experience with City of Columbia cops. To borrow from popular vernacular, they could fuck up a wet dream (I think I should receive some type of award for using "vernacular" and "wet dream" in the same sentence.)

Here's how this all went down: the cop, whom Brian specifically told to park around the corner and come up the back steps, decides to saunter in the front door. We feel certain that the guy saw the cop walk in and was clued in, as he is taking close to an hour to get his food. Luckily, this is not so, he's just taking his sweet time. He comes in, I ask his name, verify his order, and tell him his total. Not surprisingly, he wants to know why his food is not ready yet, as it has been an hour. I sheepishly tell him that I lost track of time, burned his order, and had to remake it. Brian walks into the kitchen, peeks in the oven as if he's checking on the food, tells me it's almost ready, and pulls out two pizza boxes to prop open on the counter.

In reality, he's waiting to see the guy hand me the check so he can signal the cop. The guy hands me the check, which is made out for $60.00 on a $28.00 order, and tells me he needs change, but $5.00 of it is a tip for Mo. To buy time, I ring in the check extra slowly (not really. I have no idea how to process a check payment in our system, since the last person who wrote a check for a pick up food order was Abraham Lincoln.) I guess my way through it, open the drawer to get the change, and this is where it starts to get interesting. You see, our kitchen is basically horseshoe-shaped. Instead of using one of the side walls as cover, and creeping up beside the guy, the cop chose to walk plainly into view in the kitchen, and, I shit you not, say "Sir, I need to speak with you." Now, I'm not a trained law enforcement professional, and neither are most of you, but I think we could all see what was about to happen: the dude straight-up bolted. I bet he set some sort of land-speed record.

The cop, of course, was walled-in. He had to go out the back of the kitchen, run down a hall, and try to catch the guy. Luckily for him, Brian and Robert (one of our delivery guys) had anticipated this and ran him down before he got out the door. Unfortunately, Charly, our bartender's girlfriend, got in the way and was bulldozed. She's fine, she was just a bit dazed.

Jimmy, one of our regulars made the following observation: Five people involved in a fight, and the trained professional with the billy club, taser, and gun is the last one on the scene. Nice.

Of course, after all was said and done, Brian and Robert got a standing ovation from the bar, Mo wanted to know if he still got his five dollar tip, and crime-fighting nicknames were assigned. Brian is now know as Bri-nosaurus-Rex, and Robert (who makes his deliveries on a moped) is known as Scooter Boy Wonder. His moped has been deemed the Scooter of Justice. Robert, after the incident, wound up sitting down at the bar with two very attractive blondes, who bought him drinks. He left with them, and I haven't seen him since, but I have a feeling he had a good night. Shortly after that, the Cap'n came up to the bar, and promptly decided he needed a crime-fighting nickname as well. He is now known as the Drunken Dandy.

I decided I would conduct an interview with Bri-nosaurus-Rex about the experience. The Drunken Dandy insisted on adding his input.

JT: So, Bri, where did you first acquire your crime fighting skills?
Bri: Man, I have to give a shout out to my friend Andy Angus. He had the Sega Genesis that my family was too poor to have. I credit my take down to going old-school and using the hundred-hand slap I learned from E. Honda.
JT: So, Bri, since you set this whole thing up, would you say you're the brains of the operation.
Bri: Scarily enough, I guess I am.
JT: What does that make Robert?
Bri: The speedy sidekick?
JT: Wait...does that mean that Cap'n is the looker?
Bri: Yeah, I guess Cap'n is the face man.
JT: Damn.
Bri: Yeah. Hey, can I give a shout-out real quick?
JT: Of course.
Bri: I want to give a shout-out to Mo, my strong black brother. Also, to Siena's cheerleaders for being butt ugly and making me angry enough to take that guy down.
At this point, Cap'n drunkely tries to interject something.
Bri: Shut up, I'm being quoted, you dickface.
JT: Well, Bri, I guess that about wraps this up. Anything else you want to say?
Bri: Yeah. If Drew didn't have that metal thing sticking out of his face, he wouldn't be so gay.
JT: Fair enough.

Then we proceeded to sit up at the bar, reliving the experience, and insulting Drew's new eyebrow piercing. All in all, a good night.

JT out.

Freaking fantastic, man.
Well worth the wait...
I'm hungry for pizza.
AWESOME. Good stuff.

Not just crime fighting names, but they need DRINKS named after themselves now, too!

Not better way to pay homage than to name a drink after some one.
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