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"Hey! Do you have a problem with the lady?" I called as I got closer, putting on my jacket but making sure my badge was in plain sight, as well as my nightstick and pistol. Marjorie took this time to excuse herself and go back to tend to the food, just as the punk got up. He snarled as he walked up to me, so close I could see his nose hairs as he sneered, thinking himself tough now that he saw he had an inch on me, maybe two.

"Listen, Pig. If you've got the hots for that filthy beast, that's fine. But don't think I'm scared of you just cause you've got a stinkin' badge, zoophile."

Ah, one of the racist ones. That explains it. Just as I was about to answer him , however, a blood curdling scream came in from outside. It sounded like it was from across the street, but I had a hard time looking that way. My entire spine felt frozen.

"-ey! Hey! Don't you fucking ignore me when I'm talking, jerk, or I'll bash your face in!"

What?

Right, the punk.

Di... did he not hear the scream?

I felt like I was going to be sick. What little food there was in my stomach wanted to leap straight out, but the bathroom was on the other side of this angry idiot, and who knew what would happen if I turned my back to hi,?

And then came either the loudest echo of my life, or another scream.

Again, he didn't stop talking.

This time, however, it came from the kitchen.

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