the Choirboys (1996) Read Online Free Page A

loosed an enormous fart which moved out every policeman nearby. Then he tossed the cigar back on the floor. Another choirboy, Spencer Van Moot of 7-A-33, picked it up gingerly with two fingers, stripped off the cellophane and said, "It'll be okay after it dries out."
    Lieutenant Finque had just replaced Lieutenant Grirnsley whose transfer was mysteriously precipitated by Spermwhale Whalen. Lieutenant Finque was of medium height with straight hair which was parted and combed straight back much as his father had done when his father was still in style in 1939, the year of Lieutenant Finque's birth. The lieutenant was unsure in his new rank but rarely if ever heeded the advice he always asked for from Sergeant Nick Yanov, the hipless chesty field sergeant, who had to shave twice a day to control his whiskers.
    Sergeant Yanov was an eleven year officer, and at age thirty-four actually had less supervisory experience than Lieutenant Finque. But he had the distinction of being the only person of supervisory rank ever to be invited to a MacArthur Park choir practice, which he wisely declined.
    Sergeant Yanov's only immediate passion in life, like many officers at Wilshire Station, was some night to drag Officer Beba Hadley away from the nightwatch desk and into the basement and rip her tight blue uniform blouse and skirt from her tantalizing young body and literally screw the badge right off her. Which was perhaps symbolically linked with Yanov's avowed belief that superior officers like Lieutenant Finque had been screwing him mercilessly for the past eleven years.
    Lieutenant Finque had a different passion. He wanted to be the first watch commander in Wilshire Division history to catch every single member of his watch out of his car with his hat off or drinking free coffee or failing to answer a telephone properly.
    When things quieted down from Spermwhale's contribution to rollcall, Lieutenant Finque said, "Fellows, we have some rollcall material to give you on diplomatic immunity in misdemeanor cases. In case you should have the occasion to run into a consul or ambassador in the course of your duties, does everyone know the difference between a consul and an ambassador?"
    "An ambassador is a Nash," said Harold Bloomguard of 7-A 29 "Don't see too many these days."
    "I heard those consulate cocksuckers just wipe their ass with their parking tickets in New York," offered Roscoe Rules of 7-A-85.
    "If you work for the UN you can do no wrong in the first place," said Spencer Van Moot of 7-A-33.
    "Well, I hope you all read the material," Lieutenant Finque said jauntily as the drops of acid formed. He was never sure if they were being insubordinate.
    "Finque's rollcalls are about as exciting as a parking ticket," whispered Francis Tanaguchi of 7-A-77 to his partner, Calvin Potts.
    "And to think I left a sick bed to come to work today," Calvin groaned.
    "Your girl wasn't feeling well?" Francis asked.
    "On to more important things, men," Lieutenant Finque said, as Sergeant Nick Yanov, who sat on his left on the platform in front of the assembly, looked at the ceiling and drummed nervously on the table with his fingers. "I hope you men have been trying to sell whistles. The nightwatch has been doing pretty badly compared to the daywatch."
    This announcement caused Sergeant Yanov to lean back in his chair and start rubbing his eyes with the heels of both hands so that he would not have to see the eye rolling, lip curling, head shaking, feet shuffling, which was utterly lost on Lieutenant Finque who had given birth to the whistle selling campaign.
    It had been a master stroke which actually was suggested by an eighty year old spinster who attended every single Basic Car Plan meeting. Since Lieutenant Finque was pretty sure the old woman was senile and would not remember she had thought of it, he adopted the idea as his own and the uniformed patrol force of Wilshire Station found themselves being forced to sell black plastic whistles for fifty