Donovan Creed 11 - Because We Can! by John Locke

on the job. Been in the USA exactly two days. All his life he’s heard how violent Americans are, but always thought that was propoganda.
    “Tahir’s cousin got him a work visa, found him a job at the gas station. Tahir’s been workin’ the late shift by himself for all of eight minutes when Jack Tallow pulls into the station with a man’s bloody torso swingin’ from the back of a tow truck. You could’ve murdered Tahir’s whole family, he wouldn’t have screamed any louder. He hits the floor, starts to call 911, but hears someone tappin’ on the glass above him. It’s Jack, tryin’ to pay for his gas in advance. Tahir takes one look at Jack, who’s bleedin’ from head to toe from wild hog bites, and tells him to take whatever he can. Jack hisses at the guy and scares him half to death. See, he can’t talk because his vocal cords have been cut out. So he motions for a pen and paper. Tahir supplies it, and Jack writes that Tahir has to unlock the pump. Well, to do that, Tahir has to stand up. So he does, and realizes he’s dumped four pounds of shit in his drawers! He unlocks the gas pump and watches Jack fill the truck. But he won’t call the cops ’cause he thinks everything that happens in America winds up on the Internet and he doesn’t want the whole world to know he shit his pants.”
    “Makes sense,” I say.
    “But Jack won’t leave. After fillin’ the tank he comes back to ask directions. Want to guess what he’s lookin’ for?”
    “A doctor?”
    “A veterinarian. To patch up his hog bites. Then he asks Tahir what nationality he is. When he says Pakistani, Jack asks, ‘Where can I find a rocket launcher?’”
    He laughs. “Bear in mind, all these questions are bein’ written down on paper, which means they’re evidence! So Jack walks back to the truck, starts it up, puts it in gear, all while forgettin’ the dead body’s organs are hung up in the broken glass of one of the pumps. He winds up pullin’ the top half of the gas pump behind him, and of course, it’s scrapin’ the ground, makin’ a God-awful sound. Later, Jack insists he had no clue there was a body hangin’ from the tow truck! He drives about 20 yards before he’s surrounded by a dozen squad cars and Baton Rouge Swat. They put him face down on the street and ask what the fuck he’s doin’ with a body hangin’ from the hoist, and you know what he says?”
    “Tell me.”
    “He says the cops must have put it there while he was on the ground. You know, like they were plantin’ evidence, like it was some kind of fuckin’ dime bag!”
    I say, “I believe him. Let him go.”
    “Good one.”
    “It’s not a joke. I’ve come here to get him. You’ll have to turn him over.”
    “Like hell I will! We traced the truck to Bobby DiPiese. Ever heard of him?”
    “I have.”
    “We figure Jack is one of Bobby’s goons, though he claims he never heard of Bobby, and has no idea who was hangin’ from the truck.”
    “I believe him,” I say. “Open his cell. I’ll take it from here.”
    “You’re insane.”
    “The guy’s a good Samaritan. A hero.”
    “ What ?”
    “He found the truck at night. Hurt as he was, he attempted to drive it all the way to your police station. He was even willing to fill the gas tank for the owner.”
    “Uh huh. And the body?”
    “It was dark when he found the truck. He didn’t see the torso hanging from the hook.”
    “Bullshit! He pumped gas in a station lit up like Rockerfeller Square! Oh, and the pump he used was five feet from the one he intended to use because, as I said, the body was hung up on the gas pump next to his truck!”
    “He was hog bit, right?”
    “So?”
    “He was probably delirious by the time he made it to the gas station.”
    “In which case he shouldn’t have been drivin’.”
    “I agree. Charge him for reckless endangerment and release him to my custody.”
    “You’re as crazy as he is.”
    I press a button on my cell phone, explain the situation