Pride In The Uniform (01-19-2012)

Officer Malloy lifted the leather suit up, looking nervous. “So, how do I get in this thing again?”

Chief O’Haberdashery chuckled, his skintight leather uniform creaking and stretching as his bulk pulled it in all directions. “Butter and a running start! I don’t care how you get into it, detective, so long as you do. You’ve got a double homicide I want you to get out to.”

Malloy shook his head. “I just don’t know why I’ve gotta put this on, chief. It don’t make any sense.”

The Chief sighed. “Look Malloy, I didn’t like it when the Sexual Equality Policy passed, but I guess this is the punishment we deserve for making the female officers all dress up in leather catsuits and schoolgirl uniforms. Vice must be finding it drafty, having to wear those little skirts in this weather.”

Malloy nodded. “Yeah, could be worse, I guess. Although the naughty werewolf costume looked kind of warm. Which department is wearing those?”

“Arson. Traffic gets the sexy pirate outfits.”

Malloy nodded, putting his foot into the leather. He could feel it tugging on the hairs on his legs, making him wince. “Is this thing supposed to fit over my whole frame, or just one leg? Jeez.”

The chief laughed, throwing a file on his desk. “Killer looks to be an anthropomorphic duck. Wealthy, possessing a knowledge of tribal sacrifice techniques from years of world travel and study. Keeps leaving dimes at the scene with a ’1′ cut into them. Creepy stuff.”

Malloy fought his way into his uniform, cringing with each step as the leather yanked every single hair on his body. He picked up the folder, looking it over, trying to take in the details of what he saw and not the horror. “I thought the ‘Pomos kept to themselves. The ducks were usually pretty quick to threaten violence, but they never actually go through with it. What’s up with this one?”

The Chief shrugged, his suit groaning around him. “You got me. It’s up to you to find that out, though. Go down to this guy’s house, and try to shake something out of him. Better bring this, though.”

The Chief tossed him a small bundle of cloth strips that were fastened to bits of metal. Malloy held the thong and bikini top up, shaking his head. “What is this supposed to protect me from, chief?”

“Beats me. Guess we should have thought of that before we made all of those changes to the female officer’s uniform rules. I never expected this to come back and bite us this way.”

Malloy threw the bulletproof swimwear on the ground. “There’s got to be some way we can fight this. It’s not sexually discriminating to want the women to walk around in fetish outfits. That’s hot!”

“Sometimes.”

“Right, sometimes. We had rules for fat chicks, too. It was a good system, and it didn’t discriminate against anyone in any way. Who enjoys watching a man walk around in a leather catsuit, anyway? This isn’t about equality in what we wear, it’s about having some common sense about what looks good on a man and a woman.”

Malloy noticed the Chief had stopped paying attention, and was admiring himself in a mirror. “I dunno, Malloy. I’m starting to enjoy the feel of this. Sure, it stings at first, but once you shave all of your hair off, it kinda grows on you.”

“Chief, I don’t believe this!”

The Chief pointed one finger in Malloy’s face, his features grim. “Look, you promised to uphold the law no matter how we dressed you, and that’s what you’re gonna do. If you don’t like the uniform, then you can leave your badge and whip on my desk. There’s plenty of other cops who are just as hungry for justice and seductive maid uniforms! Now, get out there and bring that duck in!”

Malloy left the office, cringing with every painful step until he threw himself into the driver’s seat of the squad car. He looked to Lou, squinting as the sun reflected off his gold bikini, and threw the file in his direction. Lou looked through it, careful not to mess up the buns in his hair while the car set in motion.

“What’s got the chief so sure it’s a duck. You ask me, a butcher like this has to be some lovable, philosophical bear with a rage complex over being given a girl’s name. The guy’s a sadist.”

Malloy nodded. “Beats chasing down a wealthy duck. Who’s his known associates?”

“Says here he hangs with a passive/aggressive pig and a rabbit with a history of violent outbursts. Could be cult-related killings.”

Malloy hit the gas, the grooves of the pedal pushing against his thigh-high heels. “We’ll find out.”