HAROLD
Three weeks ago he couldn't have imagined the scene that sprawled in front of him. The smell of his fallen friends drifted through the air like the sadness that only someone who has lost everything can truly understand. He laughs. They all deserved it.
There on the ground he spots it, he knew he'd find it eventually, Mike's wallet. “Too many excuses, Mike. Sorry, bud, but 2 months is a bit too long to hold on to a debt like that. I know it's only five dollars, but really that just makes it seem like you should have been able to pay me back sooner.”
The sound of approaching sirens, slowly fades in. “Uh oh,” Harold quickly thinks to himself. “That's not good.”
Two police cruisers arrive and quickly stop. A young uniformed policewoman jumps out of the car closest to Harold.
“Drop the scissors, you bastard! I'll blow your head off! I swear I will!”
“But it's coupon day...” Harold muttered thoughtlessly.
“Throw down your weapon, sir, or I'll be forced to open fire,” yelled a second, more timid, officer.
“You don't understand!” Harold was screaming now, his attention suddenly fully on the police officers.
“I own this street! If you're on it, I own you!”
“That's it! You had your chance, buddy.” The second cop, takes careful aim and shoots Harold in his upper left leg.
“Ahhh! You bastards! I will see you punished for this transgression!”
Just then, a third officer, who had begun to make his way around from behind Harold, creeps quietly. He lunges forward and grabs the hand holding the scissors.
“Those are mine!”
“No, they are not, you dirty thief. These were stolen from my house!”
With that the officer kicks the gunshot wound in Harold's leg and takes the weapon from his hand.
Having retrieved the officer's stolen scissors, the cops leave to celebrate another job well done.
THE END
