Sam Robinson and Edmund Bell just got out of college and had used their criminal justice degree to join the police force. Being friends and young they joked and laughed their entire way through training, which almost got them thrown out, but they begged and pleaded and did extra work to make up for their temerity.
Today, they sat before police chief Hamilton, a stocky balding black man with a short temper. “Robinson and Bell I have an assignment for you. There are rumors that a farmer has two black children working for him as slaves and I want you two to look into it, because the color of your skin will make you sensitive to the case. Drive out to the farm, investigate, eat lunch, and report back to me before the end of the day.”
“Yes, sir.” They said in unison. The chief handed them the reports and they headed to the car.
”Damn boy did you see that secretary? What a fine piece of ass.”
”I saw that shit. You could bounce a quarter off it and bust up the ceiling. I'd tap that shit.” Robinson replied.
”Fuck yeah. Skeet skeet. Ha.” They both busted up laughing.
”What's up with this slave bitch?” asked Bell.
”I tell you what this is. This is another story of the white man trying to keep the black man down. Finally, we got one of us in office to stir them things up a bit.”
Robinson liked to be called black instead of African American since he was so ashamed to be an American while George W. Bush was president. Now that there was a new president he didn't mind, but preferred black since he became accustomed to it.
They pulled up to the farm and parked near the fence. The farmer politely let them in and the two officers sat down at the dinner table with the farmer and two black children.
”My name is agent Robinson and this is my partner Bell. We have documented reports that you are treating these children as slaves.”
One of the children interrupted. “Agent it's horrible. He doesn't pay us a penny, won't let us leave, and he whips us.”
Bell looked at the farmer. “Is this true?”
”Yes,” the farmer replied.
Robinson glanced at the farmer, who was white, and then at the children, who were black. “Does he call you niggers?”
The other child replied, “no he has never called us that, but he calls us pieces of shit and worthless scumbags and sometimes doesn't feed us.”
”That's all I need to hear,” said Robinson. “Sorry to bother you sir.”
”Please help us!” screamed one of the children. The policemen ignored the childrens' cries for help and left the farm.
In the car Bell spoke up, “hey Jim how are you handling your divorce?”
”You know I was down for a bit, but I've been getting so much pussy I don't even care anymore. This young slut lives near me and I been hitting that shit. Real tight. I'll ask if she got any friends for you.”
They ate lunch and drove back to the station. It was a custom to knock on a superior's door and then wait patiently for them to answer. When the two of them knocked police chief Hamilton was surprised at their cursory speed in reporting back.
”You two gentleman have returned quickly. What's your report?”
Robinson smiled, proud of himself. “Chief, the farmer is holding them slaves, but there is no need to prosecute him because he doesn't call them niggers.”
The chief was silent for a brief second before his blood boiled in anger. ”Doesn't call them niggers. You fucking idiots are niggers! Go arrest that man and hold the two children in custody. Do it today or I'll have your badges in the morning!”
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