Crime Doesn’t Pay

It couldn’t have been up to standards. The underground “interrogation hall” looked worse than their base. Buckled into rusty, discarded coaster carts, the captured members of the Villainous Legion watched their interrogator as he paced around the room.

“This is stupid… you can’t do this to us.” Of course Anita was the only one who had the energy to pipe up at a time like this. She wasn’t enjoying the grime from the cart staining her already plenty ruined clothes she’d worn during the escape.

“What do you think this is, a Kidney movie? We’re getting this out of you, one way… or another.”

But the slender, tall officer did not stoop towards Anita’s seat. Indeed, he leaned right over to Spider’s, staring into the boy’s flat, bored eyes.

“Come on, buddy. Now that the drugs are wearing off, have you recalled any old info you might’ve been forgetting? Let’s hear it.

“Like hell.”

“What’s that? You’re not in a position to be back-talking, young man… if you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell us who those girls were who assaulted Mr. Bozo earlier and humiliated him at the trickery showcase yesterday. Wouldn’t mind knowing the names of your other escaped cohorts, either.” He turned to the side before facing him again, othering them from the rest of the boy’s squad. “Got any of that for me, son?”

“…I’m a rebel without a cause, not a rebel without principles, dipshit…”

“Fine. Enjoy your full sentence, then.”

Officer Bartlet stepped around the room again. He gave them minutes upon minutes for the fear to catch hold of them on its own, but for some reason, this ragtag group of domestic terrorists were showing a strange amount of backbone for a bunch of cowards.

“Is there not anything you sorry saps are willing to tell us about those scumbags?” He nearly laughed. 

“They weren’t like us…” Kyrie lamented, looking over at Arsene. He didn’t even seem awake right now. “Those… kids were good. Smart, too. You’ll never find them.”

“We’ll see about that.” He smiled. “I’m not from this park, you know? This is no local matter. Those two are criminals, and we’ve got people looking for them no matter where they go. Depending on how stubborn you folks are, I might be looking for them myself.”

“Course you ain’t from this park…” Spider chuckled. “They wouldn’t have enough to pay you.”

The interrogator groaned.

“Why is it that you only open your mouth when you’ve got more shit to poor out of it?”

He kicked Spider’s cart over. The harsh metal sound sparked murmurs of fear as he crouched down to the boy’s sideways head.

“That got your blood pumping, yeah? Come on. Tell us what you know. Just whisper it in my ear. No one will ever know.”

Spider began to murmur. Bartlet gladly placed his hearing organ to the boy’s mouth.

It got filled with a spitwad in an instant.

“Son of a—“ the officer stood, wiping the discharge away. In a final cruelty, he cracked a kick against the boy’s nose. His dark, heavy boots served well in breaking it.

“So nobody’s talking, huh… guess I gotta start doing to you all what I just did to him. Starting with… you.”

He pointed at Anita. The only reasoning behind this was that he found her the prettiest of the gang- he didn’t expect her to spill, just someone else who didn’t wanna hear her face get kicked in.

But then, the dungeon door opened.

“Hey, uh… sir?” The cop awkwardly addressed her senior, keeping her gaze downward or glancing back up the stairs to Bozo’s HQ.

“What is it?”

“There’s like, some news broadcast going on… or like, it’s a special addressment. I think there’s gonna be… reparations or something? For the people who were at the park earlier today when the Missile Man ride went down.”

“Bozo wants to make it up to his guests? That’s… sorry, but how does he plan to do that when his company just went six feet under? Hell- isn’t he upstairs in the infirmary?” 

“It’s not Bozo, sir. I think he’s getting compensated, too.”