Carrey Mahoney rose from his restful slumber in his big oak bed. He looked out of his window at the parade grounds of the Academy resting under a thin blanket of early-morning fog. After years of service to the community as one of the most unorthodox beat cops ever to walk the street, he had finally been rewarded with the one position that he had always wanted: Commandant of the Police Academy.
Commandant Mahoney was beginning only the second week of his term as head of this distinguished facility, but he had been able to hand pick his staff and had installed virtually every officer with whom he had trained in one of the key positions: Officer Tackenberry-SWAT Advisor, Officer Luttrell Jonas-Vocal Effects Trainer, Sgt. Debbie Callahadaran-Hand to Hand Combat. He knew that his school was in good hands, but there was something bothering him. What had woke him up from his sound sleep this morning?
Mahoney walked to the window and gazed down at the parade grounds. There in the middle of it all was a lone figure in a tattered police jacket. The man sported long, dirty hair with ribbons in it-or were they strips of torn police shirts?
“Can Commandant Mahoney come out and PLAY??!!!” the man yelled.
Mahoney knew that this could be only one man. Only one cadet had trained under Mahoney in his tenure as an academy professor and had never really “gotten” it. He had started out as the desperate leader of a vicious street gang and then joined the academy. His redemption seemed certain until the day when he suddenly dropped from the force and disappeared from sight. It appeared that at long last Zed was back.
“Zed!” Mahoney yelled out the window. “Zed, what are you doing?”
Zed’s crazy eyes lolled in their sockets for a frantic second before he screamed an answer. “I’ve come for your children!!”
Mahoney was confused. “I don’t have any children, Zed.”
“I know that,” he snapped, “It just sounded cool!”
“What do you want, Zed?” Mahoney was getting irritated.
“You took my job, Mahoney. I was supposed to be the next Commandant!”
“You’re an ex-street thug, Zed. Why would they give it to you?”
“Corrrrrrrrrection! I am a Born-Again Street Thug, and I brought all my little friends to play with me.”
From behind Zed came an army of the lowest form of street trash that had ever been disgorged by any inner city in the world.
Mahoney turned and grabbed the phone. “Officer Hoops, get a hold of the entire faculty and have them get suited up.”
“Is it a riot, Commandant Mahoney?” the operator asked in a tiny voice.
“No, Laverne,” he answered dramatically, “it’s a war!”
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5610 South Geneva Rd.
Sodus
New York
14551
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Tony Carbone
315-483-4951
revelations149@hotmail.com
http://www.blackcatpaintball.com/events/ceventsmain.htm
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