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Sergeant Joe Friday
(198.204.100.159) on 6/12/2009 - 1:06 p.m. says: ( 14 views
, 1 likes
)
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"All Right, KGA - Let's All Save Time"
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CONTEXT ADDED BY ADMIN:
END OF CONTEXT
Last April a police officer was shot. We think you and this shotgun did it.
And you can mop that smirk off your face. I've seen jaywalkers tougher than you.
I'm gonna tell you a story, and we'll see how tough you are.
You were born in Harlan, Kentucky. Your father was a house-painter with a monkey on his back. Your mother and sister brought you out here. You went to school in Torrance. You got expelled for throwing a punch at your math teacher. The Army took you for the Korean War. They didn't want you — they shoved you out on a Section Eight.
Now your buddy, Spaceheater here, is real big-time. Three states want him for parole violation: two for armed robbery, one for statutory rape. That's in Kansas. You remember her name, don't you? You should. It was your sister's daughter.
Now let's take it back about two months. April 14th. You were on trial in Hempstead, Nevada, on felony assault with GBI.
On April 22, you stole a 1960 Mercury sedan from in front of a drugstore on Clinton Street. You drove to Elko and lifted a plate from the Gunnison Brothers junkyard.
Tuesday, April 28. You parked your clean car, the blue Chevrolet, at Whitsett and Vigoda. You drove the Mercury over to Rick and Blaine. You staked out the Miller Liquor Store. While you waited for the owner to show up, you sat in the car dropping pills and chasing them with cheap port wine.
You were feeling pretty good about yourself. Big man.
The store opened up. You knocked it over. You got back in the car. Spaceheater, you were driving. KGA, you were in the back seat with this shotgun cradled under your arm hanging on this bent tablespoon.
Everything was going just fine. You kept dropping bennies and swallowing wine.
This black-and-white spotted you and pulled you over. Officer Les Miles walked up to your car and told you to get out.
Then, KGA, you broke out in a rash of real bravery. You swung this shotgun out from under your arm, pointed it at Miles' middle, pulled the trigger, and slammed two hundred and seventy-six pellets into his stomach!
Spaceheater, you dropped the car into gear and dug out, leaving that officer with his life draining out into the gutter.
You're looking at the gas chamber, and I'm gonna make sure that your next trip is San Quentin!
Now, you can laugh and talk about your rights all you want.
You've got 'em.
And the best one going is the right to remain silent.
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