Thursday, October 22, 2009

28 Weeks Later of Halloween Continue


"My name is Clay; I wear a badge."

Do please forgive my little fit of whimsy. I have a taste for the dramatic that I seldom have the opportunity to indulge. I am Inspector Daniel Clay. Some of you may have heard my name in connection with the dreadful series of events recounted in the classic docu-drama "Plan Nine From Outer Space." Bit of a rum go, that, I must say. In fact, you may be wondering how I am here at all, considering the fate with which I appeared to have met during that rather harrowing episode. Well, it is the proverbial long story, but the bottom line is, reports of my demise were, to quote the Bard of the Mississippi, greatly exaggerated.

Modesty prevents me from going on at length about what some have been so kind as to call my great career, but I assure you that the events of that fateful day stand head and shoulders above all my other experiences for sheer apocalyptic terror.

Nevertheless, that was not the only case in which, if I may flatter myself by saying so, I distinguished myself in the service of that blind goddess Justice. For example, were I to regale you with tales of Plans One through Nine, “I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres.”

But alas, we shall have to forgo that pleasure for the nonce. My "special assignment" today is to present for your wonder and edification a selection of pieces from my personal gallery of true crime publications, a collection of epic sagas, thrilling and enlightening vignettes from the the never-ending struggle between the forces of law and order and those who would drag society into the pit of anarchy and sin.

These tales are not for the faint of heart. As I peruse some of these cases, the horrific crime scenes, my heart goes out to my brother officers, and I say to myself, "Finding a mess like this ought to make anyone frightened." Even I, a seasoned officer of the law, sometimes quail when I must needs gaze into the abyss. But I know I cannot give in to my trepidations. Because, after all, I'm a big boy now, Johnny.

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