Dopamine

Attacking imaginary enemies is a good way to get real ones.

Mr President’s Notes to Self Twitter Account

30 Minutes Later - Megacles - Strip Club

“These cops are going to murder us.” says Candy, my new lover.

It's looking more likely. We’re back in our booth, except now we're in handcuffs.

“I guess I should’ve let them in.” I say.

“Na, they were going to kill us anyway. At least we had some fun first.”

She's a keeper. I look around. Shooter is still free, now pacing and smoking on the patio. Sad Cop is still miserable. Alpha Cop is still an asshole. I’ve been tased by the cops, and I'm in cuffs. I guess I should have let Shooter blow her husband away.

I'm looking for an out. I remember my VR glasses and slip them on. Alpha Cop stole our phones, but was too dumb to know there are cameras in my glasses. Unfortunately, there’s no record function. So, I've got no video of what's happened, and no way to record what happens next.

I notice a new guy at the bar. He’s heavy, strong, and stern. The cops are ignoring him.

I get called over for my interview with Alpha Cop.

“Why were you carrying a dildo in a shoulder holster?” he asks.

“Quicker draw than from the hip.”

“You think sexually assaulting a police officer’s wife is funny?”

He starts to build a fantasy where I'm a sex criminal who attacked Shooter before she drew her gun. I also resisted arrest, exposed myself, and sexually assaulted a police officer. I ignore him. He is just rehearsing his lies, and needs no input from me.

I have two options. I can fight this in court - Shooter and Sad Cop may lie about what happened, but I think Candy and Brian will vouch for me. That said, judges love cops, hate dykes and strippers, and they'd have dozens of opportunities to humiliate me before trial.

The other option is to get Sad Cop to change his story. If I get a cop on my side, Alpha Cop's fantasy falls apart. I need a way to distract Alpha Cop, so I can talk to Sad Cop. Maybe Doc-Danger can do that. Because, I just realized the scary dude at the bar must be Doc-Danger.

I lift my glasses and pretend to dry my eyes. Yep, scary dude disappears. He’s Doc-Danger's avatar projected on my glasses. He’s been watching this all go down for who knows how long. Long enough that he wants to murder Alpha Cop. Either that, or he has spectacular resting bitch face.

He notices my attention and fiddles with his phone. The slogan on his T-shirt changes to “How can I help?” He's a keeper.

I nod to Alpha Cop. “I need 5 minutes without him.”

“What?” barks Alpha Cop.

“Give him your glasses.” says Doc-Danger, through the little speakers in my frames.

“Who are you talking to?” growls Alpha Cop.

“See for yourself.” I hand over the glasses.

He fiddles with them suspiciously. “You have to put them on, dipshit.” Says a tinny little voice.

His reaction to the glasses is comical. He even waves his hands in front of his face like a kid at a 3D movie. Doc-Danger’s voice gets quieter and Alpha Cop starts walking towards the Champagne Room. His need to control others makes following Doc-Danger irresistible. Doc-Danger’s attitude makes him a perp to be subdued. Good luck with that.

I look over at Sad Cop. He does not appear well. I may need to build him up a bit before he can help. A back-up plan wouldn’t hurt either.

I slip my phone from Apha Cop’s side of the table, and head back to Candy’s booth. No one tries to stop me. She covers me as I try to find a law firm who will take a client over text at night. I find one. Bond, Hughes, 3000. Fuck. I’m pretty sure I’ll be dealing with a lawyer chatbot. What a tremendously poor idea. Oh, well.

I text my situation to Mr. 3000, and he sends out a tidal wave of litigation. Lawsuits, and injunctions, and restraining orders, and human right’s complaints. 830 different motions. I’m definitely dealing with a chatbot. Can’t imagine any of those motions were filed correctly, but I suppose quantity is its own type of quality.

I give Lawbot 3000 a few more instructions, and head over to Sad Cop. Up close, he doesn't look sad, he looks gray and shaky. I sit next to him. I'd planned to scare the truth out of him, Ghost of Christmas Future style. Instead, I give him an awkward handcuff hug. He leans into me and sobs.

I hold him until he stops shaking. He leans away. His color is a shade better.

“So, are you sending me to jail for saving you?” I ask. “Cause I figure I’ll get out when your wife tries again. Not sure how that helps you.”

He sighs.

“Or, I took the liberty of filing a divorce and restraining order on your behalf.” I slide my phone his way. “Just press the green button, and you’re a free man. If you tell the cops what really happened, you can even sleep in your own bed without dying.”

He stares down at the phone for a long time. Slowly, his color returns.

He presses the button.

Stands up slowly. Looks around the room. Looks at his wife. Hails a beta cop.

“What did the Cook’s statement say?”

“Uhh, that your wife tried to shoot you.” replies the beta cop leerily.

“Sounds right. Better arrest her.”

“Uhh, okay.”

He hails another beta cop. “Why are all the witnesses handcuffed?”

“Gary said they resisted arrest.”

“Gary's an idiot.”

“Right.” Beta cops rush over and uncuff Candy, Brian and I.

Alpha Cop storms out of the champaign room and hustles over to Sad Cop. He’s not wearing my glasses anymore.

“We have a problem.” His phone is dinging like crazy. Hundreds of legal notifications rolling in.

“Gary, I've got lots of problems.” says Sad Cop, who, while probably still sad, looks more like Fucking Determined Cop now.

Gary looks around. It dawns on him that he's not Alpha Cop anymore.

“I stuck my neck out for you!” barks Gary.

“The last person who blamed me for their violence is in cuffs right now.” says Sad Cop. “Care to try your luck?”

Gary glares at him with murderous intent, but Sad Cop is beyond caring.

“Go home.”

Gary storms off to spread evil elsewhere. One of the beta cops gets bumped up to Alpha. Statements are taken. Shooter is dragged off. Sad Cop gives me a quiet thank you and all the cops leave.

“Wanna get drunk?” asks Candy.

“Definitely!”

“Yep, but somewhere else.” Brian's peeking out the door. “Some of those cops may come back.”

“Good point.” agrees Candy.

Candy and Brian lock up. I look around for the glasses Alpha Cop confiscated. Or stole, really. I find them smashed in the champagne room. Looks like he crushed them with the dildo. Doc-Danger must have freaked him out good.

We hit the streets. I offer a joint, but Brian wants some distance so he can relax. He thinks Gary might wait around to bust us for something else. It's a fair point. We hop on a bus, cut through a mall, then take a cab. We spend a few minutes in a quiet park. We see no cars or people.

Brian does one last perimeter check. Claps his hands. “Okay. Let's get high.”

The mood lightens. We head out, looking for some bars. Nobody’s sure where we are. Either we covered our tracks too well, or my pot is too good. Who cares? I call Doc-Danger, and tell him what happened, and that I love him.

We find a bar and drink ambitiously. Get sloppy. Brian dances the same jig to every song. He's somewhere else, but it looks like a fun place. Candy and I slow dance to every song. Just getting hot and heavy in slow circles.

Brian has to go home. Hugs are given, he's the greatest. I invite Candy to my hotel.

“Hey! Isn't that the hotel with the amazing sex guy?”

“That's just an urban myth.” I think of Isaiah. “Probably. Maybe. Let's go find out.”

If Isaiah's troubled by a couple of horny bisexuals sloshing into his room, he hides it well. We kiss and pet and strip. Everybody gets a turn in the middle. Life can be pretty good.