Halt! Procreation Police!

By Mir
August 10, 2004

(Today’s fabulous idea brought to you by the sudden proliferation of Extremely Stupid Parents in my area.)

The scene: A busy road (double yellow line and all). Riding with traffic (good) is a man on a bike with no helmet (bad), pulling a bike trailer containing a toddler with no helmet (unforgivable).

Officer Mir: I’m sorry, sir, please pull over.
Man: Is there a problem, officer?
OM: Yes, I’m afraid there is. You see, neither you nor your minor child are wearing bike helmets, and this is a very busy street.
Man: Oh. Well, you see, a helmet would mess up my hair, and I haven’t bought one for Junior yet… also, we don’t live too far from here.
OM: I see. Well, the law’s the law, sir. I’m going to have to confiscate your testicles.
Man: I– uh… what?
OM: Your testicles. Please hand them over. An infraction like this, well, it’s clear that you’re too careless to be allowed to continue breeding. Hand them over, please.
Man: Can’t you just give me a warning or something?
OM: This is a warning. If I wanted to throw the book at you, I’d be taking your penis as well. Testicles, please. Both of them. With or without scrotum, your choice.
Man: I promise to wear a helmet next time!
OM: I’m sure you will. Sir, are you going to hand them to me or would you like me to get them myself?
Man: *wimper*

The scene: A busy parking lot at a major supermarket. A harried mother is pushing a grocery-laden cart and talking on her cell phone while her preschooler stands in the back of the cart, leaning over the side.

OM: Ma’am? Could you pull over here, please?
Woman: I’ll have to call you back. Officer? Yes?
OM: I’m just going to remove a few of these bags from your cart so that you can see the clear graphic illustration of Stick Figure Child falling out of the cart and cracking his head open because Stick Figure Mother allowed him to stand up in the cart while it was in motion. Have you see this before?
Woman: Oh… ummm… yeah, but Junior’s never fallen. He’s very careful.
Junior: *smiles and puts fingers in nose*
OM: It’s not about careful, ma’am. The parking lot is full of potholes. A standing child in a moving cart is a serious safety hazard. I’m afraid you’ll have to be written up for this.
Woman: Oh, dear. Well, okay, fine, just give me my ticket so I can get home. My ice cream’s melting.
OM: It’s not quite that simple. I’m going to have to ask you to gently remove your ovaries and place them on the ground where I can see them.
Woman: I– uh, what?
OM: The law’s the law, ma’am. It’s clear that you’re too stupid to be allowed to procreate. It’s too late for this little one but we can stop the cycle before it begins anew. Ovaries, please.
Woman: But you can’t– I can’t– you just– shit!
OM: Watch your language, please, ma’am. Ovaries?
Woman: *wimper*

It’s a dirty job, but oh how I would love it.


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