Cop Hell: Disturbing Pull Over

6661 A few weeks ago I read a hell story that mentioned a guy feeling up display mannequins and it reminded me of a truly disturbing story.

One night I pulled over a car for speeding. While walking up to the car I noticed that it had real dark window tint so I couldn't see inside it.

When I made it to the driver, I asked if he could put the back windows down (we do this for our safety to make sure no one is hiding etc.).

He did without any problem and a quick glance assured me no one was back there. I get his license and as I'm walking back to my car, I look in the back of the car again to see a head staring up at me from a box.

Now we are trained to stay calm under most situations.

So the outer me just stopped walking and stared while the little inner me was screaming like a frightened school girl.

The head was from a child mannequin and in a bigger box beside it was the rest of the body.

Of course my question to the guy was "Sir, why do you have pieces of a child in your backseat."

Apparently he had bought it off craig's list and was returning from having picked it up. Yep, nothing weird about that at all.

"Ok, do you work for a store or something and going to use it as a display?"

Come on, I wouldn't be sharing this story had he said yes.

So a run of his name says that he's a registered sex offender.

Oooooooffff course.

Legally he wasn't breaking any laws but his probation officer thought differently. Apparently it's suspicious to own a child mannequin if you touch kids. Who knew.

Anyway in the end he got what he deserved. Till this day however that face looking at me through the flaps of the box still disturbs me.

*shivers*

--Badge #666

 


RHU Police Officer: Crazy Walmart Custy

6661 So this happened a few months ago at our local Wally World and seriously....you can't make this shit up.

So I get the call that a woman is being disruptive and refusing to leave the store. So I'm figuring the usual crusty bitch that didn't get her refund or something like that. I get there and she has handcuffed herself to the cart station.

This'll be fun.

The first question I want to ask is "Ok hun wtf is wrong with you" the question I have to ask is "Ma'am what's the problem?"

Cuffed Fucktard: Shut up pig PIG PIG PIG!!!!!

*sigh*

That word gets so old. But still to this day every time someone calls me that I picture a bright pink pig in a cop uniform and it brings a slight chuckle.

So once we got the greetings out of the way I found out her problem was that she thought Walmart was trying to take over the world. Apparently she found out that Walmart has more money than most third world countries and now believes they are trying to take over the US.

Part of me knows she's fucking crazy, but there is that small voice in the back of my head that says she has a point.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out what to do. Remember the episode of Saved By The Bell where they handcuffed themselves inside of the school? Freedom to picket, right? Can she do this? I don't know because now I'm too busy remembering Kelly in those tight spandex.

....Oh yeah the cuffed chick. Well obviously she's on private property so she can't picket here, she's got to GTFO.

Me: Ok ma'am you've got to leave the store.

Cuffed fucktard: This is my GOD giving RIGHT!

Me: Yes ma'am you're right. However before you do something like this you must get permission from the police, and we have to take your fingerprints to be sure you're not a terrorist that plans on blowing Walmart up.

Shut up. I get to have fun with the crazies. Its the only thing that gets me through the day.

Best part is she believed me and uncuffed herself and walked out to my car with me.

Another struggle dodged.

Oh, and she was banned from Walmart. Just another ploy for their world domination...get rid of those that are on to them.

---Badge #666

  Cuffreturn


Cop Hell Dumbass Encounter

6661 Hey slaves, RHU Police Officer again.

I had to stop by and tell you what happened last night during my strangest pull-over in a long time.

I get behind a motorcycle and the first thing I notice is the tag is wrong.

How?

My three years as a cop experience?

No.

My amazing attention to detail?

Nope.

The tag was huge.....

Huge because it was designed for a CAR!!!

Many of you may know that a motorcycle tag is small so that it fits properly. Oh, and the first two letters of this tag were TL meaning that it was actually for a trailer. Sure enough when I run it, it comes back as a 1998 homemade trailer. I don't think Harley-Davidson would appreciate that.

So now that we have this guy's common sense measured its time for the stop. Hit my lights, he stops and immediately jumps off the bike. Uh-oh somethings wrong, he's gonna fight or shoot or something. Nope, takes off his helmet and chunks it at my windshield then lays on the ground with his hands behind his back.

At this point I'm halfway out of my car with my gun half out...confused as hell.

After the cuffs go on I ask him if he was trying to hit me with the helmet and maybe just missed. He very politely told me, "No sir I wouldn't do that to you, you're just doing your job. I was just pissed off."

Turns out he didn't have a motorcycle license, which could have been handled with a ticket and he would have been on his way home. The crack in my windshield from the helmet, however, resulted in him going to jail.

We call this job security. Never an end to the dumb ones...but you guys already knew that huh.

--Badge #666


Nasty Ass....Retail Slave...Thieves

Storytime11 Hello Undergroundonians, Hell's Security Guard here, to regale with you with yet another tale of woe. ( I will try to keep it as short as I can...)

Sherman, set the Wayback Machine to the late 90's. Set scene, Gas Station with fast food restaurant attached, and the single worst Manager I have ever heard of, let alone been forced to work for.

The story you are about to read is true, the names have been changed to protect the Fuckheads. No, seriously, it's true. In fact, I had to edit out about 80% of what I went through or I would have spent a good 6 hours typing.

Day 1) My very first day. I am being trained on second shift, by a skanked out druggie bitch. ( I should have figured out right then that things were afoot, I mean, after all, I put my application in at 8 AM that morning, had my interview about one minute later, and was told to report for training that afternoon...) The day doesn't go all that bad, at first. I'm new, so I'm getting the shit details, as well as having to run the register with the Bitch standing behind me watching what I do. No surprise.

It gets close to the time for third shift to arrive, and the Bitch, acting all nice, says "Hey, why don't you slip into the back room and have a cigarette? I can handle this for a bit." I'm thinking this is cool, she is a smoker, and we have been working breaks for each other all night.

I slip into the back room, have a seat, fire up a smoke, and keep my eye on the monitor in case she gets rushed. And here is what I see: A woman comes into the store, walks up to the counter, and orders two cartons of cigarettes. I watch the little ticker on the side of the monitor as they get rung up. The bitch takes some money. And then voids the transaction, hits No Sale to open the register, sets the money on the side of the register, and gives the woman her change. She then picks up the money as if she's going to make a Drop, and walks off camera (the camera that points at the safe was out, and never did get fixed the entire time I worked there).

I act all normal when I walk back to the register, and few minutes later third shift arrives. We go to do our checkout (Oh, did I mention there was only one register?) and, BIG SURPRISE, we discover that the cash count is short by NEARLY A HUNDRED DOLLARS!

The Bitch says not to worry, the manager will find the issue in the morning, and we go home. Knowing what is likely to be coming I get extremely drunk, and pass out.

At noon, the earliest I could force myself to get up and get cleaned up, I go into the store, and go straight to the manager. I tell her exactly what I had seen the previous night.

Turns out, as I had expected, the Bitch had called the manager first thing, and claimed that I was stealing from the register. The cunt of a manager (you'll see) says that she watched the tapes of the night before, watching every little move I made, and had come to the conclusion that I was not to blame. ( No fucking duh. I have never, in all my days on a register, taken so much as a dime.)

I figure that the manager will see the issue I told her about, fire the Bitch, and all will be cool. She then tells me to go home and get some extra sleep. Because we are now shorthanded, she has decided that she can trust me, and that I will be working third shift by myself that night.

This is not a big deal for me. By then I had been working gas stations long enough that the only training I needed was learning the new register, and I had that down pat in the first hour. (This is the late 90s remember, cash registers were easy.)

I go home, drink a few beers, pass out. Get up, arrive at work 15 minutes early. To find the Bitch (you know, the one that was stealing) running the register. Turns out we were short handed not because she got fired, but because the third shift person quit! The Bitch checks out, interestingly her drawer comes up fine, she leaves, neither of us said a word.

Two AM comes along and I finally get a break in the flow of customers. I lock the front door, and head for the back for a smoke while I check the cooler for restocking. Guess what I discover?

The monitor that points at the cash register has now had the little ticker on the side scrambled, so that when you run a transaction all that can be seen in real time is a bunch of Asterisks. Warning bells go off in my head, but I need the job.

Fast forward six weeks, after I had trained a new third shift guy to work part time on my days off, so I could stop working 7 days a week. The store has been having extreme difficulties with it's cigarette count. Somehow, every day, 2 cartons go missing, without fail. Hmmm, 2 cartons. Do we see a pattern here? I know I do.

I come in one evening to work my normal shift, to find my part time third shifter working second shift. Now, he and I have gotten to be pretty good friends by this point (and still are to this day). After we get his shift closed, and mine opened, he sticks around and lets me in on the story.

See, it seems that the Bitch had been fired that afternoon. Company Loss Prevention has been keeping a very close eye on this store after an anonymous tip (Who me? I would never do...oh all right, it was me) about theft. Bill (Not His Real Name) has been moved to second shift to cover the loss of the employee, and I'm back to working 7 day weeks. Now, I love 16 hours of overtime every week, but when am I going to get a chance to spend all that cash?

But wait, oh my darlings, this story is not over yet.

Fast forward another month. Bill has accepted a request from the DM to transfer to another store to run second shift. His last day was yesterday. I arrive at work thinking that I am going to be seeing the manager, because, as of that morning, they had not hired a new second shifter.

Oh, no. Guess again. It's THE BITCH! After she gets checked out she sticks around to tell me the story. The manager had called her that afternoon, and begged her to come back because she didn't want to work a double. The manager had worked up this nice little scam. When she filled out the paperwork for the new hire, she bumped the last number of the Bitch's Social up one number, and told the DM over the phone that she had hired the Bitch's twin sister because we were desperate for help.

(Now, do you see how stupid the Bitch is? She actually told me what the scam was.)

The end-all result : two weeks later the Bitch and the manager both get fired. And then the shitstorm hits. It turns out that the manager and the Bitch had been working together the whole time (who didn't see this coming).

The Bitch would give out two cartons of cigarettes every day, but void the transaction, and then the Bitch and the manager would split the money.

Both of them ended up in jail for theft, and the last I heard before I ran (which is another long story, which you may not believe...) was that the manager was awaiting Federal trial for falsifying Social Security and IRS documents.

--Hell's Security Guard

 


Hell Spawn + Nasty Ass Thief = Cop Hell

Jason 011z RHU Police Officer back with a tale of a hell spawn.

Actually I'm a Deputy Sheriff. I also work in a rural county which means we do it all. Over 200 square miles of pure joy and entertainment. Recently I was called to a local store that sells video games.

The manager caught a kid trying to steal a game, and stopped him by blocking the door. Of course the kid won't admit he stole anything, and the manager can't really do anything to him.....so its my job.

When I walk in and see a 12 year old boy dressed in baggy clothes and his hat turned sideways (whoa...almost broke into the pants on the ground song). Anyways, a complete thug wannabe spawn.

The manager told me what happened and offered to pull the video tape. It wasn't needed. I could see the game case outline under the boy's shirt.

Me: Where's your parents.

Thug Spawn: ---

Me: Hey! Parents...where are they?!?!

Thug Spawn: ---

This kid speaks English. Its obvious that 1. He walked here from home and 2. If he ignores me one more time I'm not liable for my actions.

Me: Dude give them back the game. I can see it under your shirt.

Thug Spawn: ---

The inner me is picturing me tazing the kid, taking the game, the dragging him home. Is that bad?

Me: Look, either you hand the game over or I'll take it from you.

Thug Spawn: You can't put your fucking hands on me!

I don't know if to be happy he's not ignoring me or mad that he's cussing me out. Either way I love it when people think they know the law and think they know what I can and can't do.

I'm 6'1, 6'2 on a good day...this kid didn't stand a chance. Of course I got the game from him.

I threw the kid in the back of my car, ready to take him home.

Me: What's your address.

Thug Spawn: ---

Oh goodie, he's gone mute again.

I eventually figure out where he lives and take him to his parents. Of course, the parents are more pissed off that I put him in the back of the police car than the fact that he tried shoftlifting.

*facepalm*

Ohhh just wait till I see them driving.

--Badge #666