The Diary Of Todd Storm, Overzealous College Town Police Officer: A Letter To Incoming Freshmen

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Welcome to college, meat. Here’s your first lesson, no tuition necessary: you’re in my world now, and in my world, the law is divine, and I, along with my college town police officer brothers and sisters across the country, am the mighty winged angel of vengeance that enforces it.

By the way, I meant that winged part literally for myself, because I bought a fucking hang glider four weeks ago. I named it Law Falcon and painted Lady Justice on the wing. Gave her the biggest set of titties you’ve ever seen (and a little nip peaking out the top of her toga). Whenever I look up and see those sheet melons mid-flight it feels like I have a fleshy AMRAAM strapped between my legs. Every time I bust a perp for underage drinking, or being drunk in public, or buying alcohol underage – you know, all the most heinous laws one could break – I paint a bottle of booze on the other wing to commemorate my kill, er, arrest (though sometimes it’s both). Now I often circle the town and campus from above, and if I see you taking even one underage sip of alcohol, thus unforgivably breaking the law, I will swoop down, land on your neck and stand on it until you spit out every ounce of Taaka vodka you tried to illegally ingest. Then I’ll cuff you and taze you, in that order. Other than a giant, fast approaching shadow over your head and the primitive, sexually charged war screams I let out as I descend upon you to dispense justice, you’ll never know I’m coming.

Now that you’re in college, you are by nature a lawbreaker, and I am here to neutralize the threat you pose to society, and the law. Did you really think just because you’re in college now — and legally an adult — you could simply up and start drinking alcohol at your leisure with no regard for the fact that you’re below the sacred arbitrary number set by I assume God because I have no idea who actually decided it? Oh, that’s fine, and while you’re at it why don’t you take a hot, wet shit in Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s mouth? Or maybe buttfuck the Declaration of Independence? Dry.

Let me tell you a little fable, though technically it’s actually true, because I did all of what I’m about to tell you a few days ago. Once there was a brash young man who thought to himself, “I don’t care about noise ordinances, or drinking laws, or the moral fiber that binds society together! I’m going to throw a pool party with lots of alcohol and students, some of whom are underage.” And oh how the boy had a grand old time at first. He laughed and danced and didn’t have a care in the world. Little did the boy know, a man of the law, who had found out about the party by cleverly asking on YikYak “Yo peeps what’s goin’ diz-own today? Any ish to get into? Besides vaginas lol?” was waiting for him. There was indeed much ish that day. The lawman hid in a pool vent he squeezed into by taking off all his clothes and covering himself in the liquid butter from the movie theater butter dispenser the department had taken as evidence in the Megaplex Masturbator investigation.*

*Some sick fuck is lubing up with popcorn butter and busting loads into the hair of people sitting in front of him. I’d help with the investigation but as it neither involves underage drinking nor college students I don’t really give a shit. Hell, no one in the department does. We just showed up and acted like we were doing “police stuff” so all the whiny people getting cummed on would finally shut up. I mean, if someone’s cumming in your hair that sounds like a personal problem, really. Not ours. Here’s the department’s priority list, in order: 1. Giving out tickets. 2. Murder and stuff (I guess). 3. Any other crime including and especially some guy yanking himself stupid at “Transformers.” It is a weird crime though, I admit. It’s like, “Listen bud, we were all rock hard during that last ‘Captain America’ movie but some of us have the decency to record our favorite scenes on our phones and then go squeeze our dicks until they’re red, white, (black) and blue at home.” Truthfully we could have identified him by now if it weren’t for all the other damn DNA littered throughout the theaters. It’s where every townie 7th-grader pops his hand job cherry and science hasn’t yet gotten to the point where you can tell if cum came from an old man or a sexually active tween. Whoever invents that machine is gonna be printing money, boy howdy. Maybe with my intricate knowledge of crime scene semen I could partner up with a scientist type and get on board that cash train. Gotta look into that. Plus it’s for the benefit of the law, which makes the semen age identifier a noble pursuit.

In the pool vent the butter-covered lawman waited patiently. Finally, once the students had settled into their false sense of security, the lawman sprang into action, emerging from the pool, spraying rubber bullets at anyone who moved, and even more so at the ones who didn’t move, because they were much easier to hit. The boy screamed in terror and clutched his precious Fireball Whiskey close to his chest. The lawman leapt from the water, dropped his spent weapons, lit a cigarette and let out a chuckle.

“I hear that stuff burns going down,” the lawman said with a smirk.

“I-I-I—what?” the boy replied nervously, feeling the full weight of his actions now upon him.

“I think this might burn a little bit more,” the lawman continued, as he pulled a canister of pepper spray out of the only place he had to store it while naked and waiting in the pool vent – his able rectum – and blasting the boy in the eyes so that he couldn’t see any potential escape routes.

“Looks like Lady Justice isn’t the only one who’s blind today,” the lawman chuckled, before remembering that drawing of Lady Justice on his hang glider and quickly excusing himself for a few minutes.

It only took twenty minutes of water boarding – one minute of initial interrogation, and nineteen minutes to make sure what the boy pretty much immediately admitted was the truth — for the lawman to find out where the boy got his liquor: a liquor store. And once again justice was served.

That lawman was me. Officer Todd Storm, Totally Reasonable College Town Police Officer. I am a storm of justice, and I am coming for you, college freshmen.

  1. Beta Theta Phrat

    Thanks the lord Bacon’s acting stint is over. About damn time he picked the pen back up. Well done.

    10 years ago at 3:49 pm
  2. DarrensDad

    Good thing that fucker never had a chance to catch my son. I taught him all of my tricks from back in the day.

    10 years ago at 3:50 pm
      1. DarrensDad

        1. Read Frat Romance Novel from start to finish.
        2. Read earlier Todd Storm.
        3. Graduate high school.
        4. Chug bleach.

        10 years ago at 5:30 pm
  3. Officer Farva

    You sir, you are my hero. I dream that I will be able to take down freshman chicken fuckers just like you.

    10 years ago at 3:53 pm
  4. SlapperFromThePoint

    No Bacon stop writing funny stories and go back to butchering your own scripts on camera

    10 years ago at 4:10 pm
    1. Bourbon and Beer

      Bacon you little shitfucker where the hell is the next Frat Romance Novel.

      10 years ago at 8:28 pm
  5. Jordan Ross Belfort

    Todd Storm’s hang glider shows more nipple than TFM will ever show. Damn you sailboats.

    10 years ago at 8:52 pm