Post by Harvey Bullock on Apr 13, 2010 15:13:54 GMT -5
Paper Work.
Boring, stupid, retarded – paper work.
If there was anything Harvey Bullock hated more than anything, it was being placed behind a desk to work with – paper. He was a detective for crying out loud, he should be out – detecting things. God knows his talents could definitely be used at the moment now that Joker and Harley and the rest of the freak show were out and about after the earthquake.
But Commissioner Gordon thought it was best that they all just sit around and twiddle their thumbs and look for all the lost paper work and files that were splayed and mismatched all over the place. Of course, he understood that it was indeed serious work – serious work for someone ELSE. Why couldn’t he set up the newbie cops to take care of this crap?
As a matter of fact, as he looked around from face to face, he realized that he was the only Detective of his high caliber that was still within the crumbling and dilapidating Gotham Headquarters with the newbie cops. In essence, Gordon made him, the baby-sitter. Immediately realizing this, Bullock had enough.
He got up from his knees, after sifting through lower cabinets to pull up a pile of weather worn papers, and plopped everything he was holding onto a desk. Sitting on said desk, was a new cop, Rodriguez, who, like every other new cop in the vicinity, was filing in papers. And when he saw the massive mound hit his desk he looked up with surprise into Bullock’s less-than-pleasant and irritable face.
“Sir?” Rodriguez inquired.
“Look through them papers, file ‘em, burn ‘em, eat ‘em, whatever you gotta do with ‘em just do it.” Bullock turned away from Rodriguez and began walking away towards his section of the GCPD building, the large and messy desk at the far off darkest corner of the building. There on a wall hung haphazardly was a dry-erase board with pictures and notes circling the entire board in indistinguishable scribbles.
“But Harvey I-“
Harvey slowly turned around, and stopped half way. He took out a pack of Marlboro Full-Flavored 100s from his pocket, pulled out a limp stick from inside and put it to his lips. In slow motion he then proceeded to put his hand back into his pocket and get out his lighter.
“Did I ASK for complainin’?” He lit the cigarette, took in a deep drag, and let it out in a sigh of relief. Rodriguez didn’t respond, but he could tell there was a nasty little knot in his throat so Bullock decided to put him out of his misery and began briskly walking to his desk.
“Ya I didn’t think so,” Bullock called out, “So get your ass into gear and start filin’ them papers.” He plopped himself into his leather black swivel chair and watched as Rodriguez sat at his desk, dumbfounded and still for a couple of moments before moving back into the routine of looking at papers.
Harvey leaned back into his chair comfortably, took another few drags from his cigarette before grabbing the nearest empty can of coca-cola and dropping it in there. Now it was time to get to business – but first. He bent over from his chair to the lowest and smallest compartment of his desk. It was a little secret he hid from all the officers in the precinct, and as he pulled open the drawer, he was greeted with the warm and delicious sight of a strawberry glazed donut with strawberry filling. He delicately pulled it out from its box, the last of its kind and gingerly began to scoop it up towards his mouth. He felt the saliva accumulate in his mouth as he awaited the first bite of his sugary delight. As he savored that first bite he groaned satisfyingly, a dribble of strawberry escaping and dripping from the corner of his mouth. But he paid little attention to it as he continued to chomp and devour the little donut till no evidence existed that it was ever there – well – except the giant stain of jelly on his tie that he now tried to fervently clean off with his thumb.
But now that he was fully recharged, he began to get down into some serious detective work.
He began sifting through completed papers of missing people and crimes, till he came upon the newest report. Apparently, somewhere in Downtown Gotham an unstable building had partially collapsed, most of the residents had escaped within time, but people have claimed that a few people could still be within the rubble. Other reports seem to prove this claim, saying that a missing family has not been seen after the collapse.
Bullock licked his thumb as he read the report, looked around the desk and grabbed his holster with his gun placed within its prospective pocket. He then proceeded to struggle with the belt around his large waist and once that little embarrassing moment was over and done with, he began reaching for his coat and hat that he left sitting on the hangers on the wall. This was a serious matter that needed to be taken care of, and if things went wrong, a horribly emotional matter that needed to be taken care of. Though he didn’t mind going on his own, another able body would be appreciated to come with him – again, to take care of the predicted events that may occur – and not for his own comfort.
And as he began to make his statement clear that he was heading out, he hoped Renee would come strolling into GCPD and come with him in their squad car. Even Crispus would be a good companion. Actually – he’d rather have an ear infection than sit in the same car with Crispus. But in any case, he settled into his seat, waiting just a little longer before ramming out and heading into the evening without some sort of backup.
[End: Continued in Devil's Advocate]
Boring, stupid, retarded – paper work.
If there was anything Harvey Bullock hated more than anything, it was being placed behind a desk to work with – paper. He was a detective for crying out loud, he should be out – detecting things. God knows his talents could definitely be used at the moment now that Joker and Harley and the rest of the freak show were out and about after the earthquake.
But Commissioner Gordon thought it was best that they all just sit around and twiddle their thumbs and look for all the lost paper work and files that were splayed and mismatched all over the place. Of course, he understood that it was indeed serious work – serious work for someone ELSE. Why couldn’t he set up the newbie cops to take care of this crap?
As a matter of fact, as he looked around from face to face, he realized that he was the only Detective of his high caliber that was still within the crumbling and dilapidating Gotham Headquarters with the newbie cops. In essence, Gordon made him, the baby-sitter. Immediately realizing this, Bullock had enough.
He got up from his knees, after sifting through lower cabinets to pull up a pile of weather worn papers, and plopped everything he was holding onto a desk. Sitting on said desk, was a new cop, Rodriguez, who, like every other new cop in the vicinity, was filing in papers. And when he saw the massive mound hit his desk he looked up with surprise into Bullock’s less-than-pleasant and irritable face.
“Sir?” Rodriguez inquired.
“Look through them papers, file ‘em, burn ‘em, eat ‘em, whatever you gotta do with ‘em just do it.” Bullock turned away from Rodriguez and began walking away towards his section of the GCPD building, the large and messy desk at the far off darkest corner of the building. There on a wall hung haphazardly was a dry-erase board with pictures and notes circling the entire board in indistinguishable scribbles.
“But Harvey I-“
Harvey slowly turned around, and stopped half way. He took out a pack of Marlboro Full-Flavored 100s from his pocket, pulled out a limp stick from inside and put it to his lips. In slow motion he then proceeded to put his hand back into his pocket and get out his lighter.
“Did I ASK for complainin’?” He lit the cigarette, took in a deep drag, and let it out in a sigh of relief. Rodriguez didn’t respond, but he could tell there was a nasty little knot in his throat so Bullock decided to put him out of his misery and began briskly walking to his desk.
“Ya I didn’t think so,” Bullock called out, “So get your ass into gear and start filin’ them papers.” He plopped himself into his leather black swivel chair and watched as Rodriguez sat at his desk, dumbfounded and still for a couple of moments before moving back into the routine of looking at papers.
Harvey leaned back into his chair comfortably, took another few drags from his cigarette before grabbing the nearest empty can of coca-cola and dropping it in there. Now it was time to get to business – but first. He bent over from his chair to the lowest and smallest compartment of his desk. It was a little secret he hid from all the officers in the precinct, and as he pulled open the drawer, he was greeted with the warm and delicious sight of a strawberry glazed donut with strawberry filling. He delicately pulled it out from its box, the last of its kind and gingerly began to scoop it up towards his mouth. He felt the saliva accumulate in his mouth as he awaited the first bite of his sugary delight. As he savored that first bite he groaned satisfyingly, a dribble of strawberry escaping and dripping from the corner of his mouth. But he paid little attention to it as he continued to chomp and devour the little donut till no evidence existed that it was ever there – well – except the giant stain of jelly on his tie that he now tried to fervently clean off with his thumb.
But now that he was fully recharged, he began to get down into some serious detective work.
He began sifting through completed papers of missing people and crimes, till he came upon the newest report. Apparently, somewhere in Downtown Gotham an unstable building had partially collapsed, most of the residents had escaped within time, but people have claimed that a few people could still be within the rubble. Other reports seem to prove this claim, saying that a missing family has not been seen after the collapse.
Bullock licked his thumb as he read the report, looked around the desk and grabbed his holster with his gun placed within its prospective pocket. He then proceeded to struggle with the belt around his large waist and once that little embarrassing moment was over and done with, he began reaching for his coat and hat that he left sitting on the hangers on the wall. This was a serious matter that needed to be taken care of, and if things went wrong, a horribly emotional matter that needed to be taken care of. Though he didn’t mind going on his own, another able body would be appreciated to come with him – again, to take care of the predicted events that may occur – and not for his own comfort.
And as he began to make his statement clear that he was heading out, he hoped Renee would come strolling into GCPD and come with him in their squad car. Even Crispus would be a good companion. Actually – he’d rather have an ear infection than sit in the same car with Crispus. But in any case, he settled into his seat, waiting just a little longer before ramming out and heading into the evening without some sort of backup.
[End: Continued in Devil's Advocate]
