Undercover Narcotics

I did some undercover narcotics work before I became a regular detective. Obviously everything you do has to remain within the realms of Federal and State law, as well as your own department's policy.

Now, the feds? I'm pretty sure they get more slack in terms of what they're allowed to do. But I work for a municipal department. Our chief is committed to getting the job done, so without much departmental interference, we have to remain within the boundaries set forth by the State.

I had to kiss a prostitute. I've had to make my wife and kids run out to the car when we were shopping at our local grocery store and a dealer I made buys from was there shopping with his grandmother around thanksgiving time. I've had to beat a few people up. and once I even had to put my gun to the temple of a guy's head to get the job done.

The worst I've ever had to do? Was get into a house with a high level supplier rumored to be working with a cartel. This guy didn't fuck around. He had the whole 9 yards of security. Everything from physical security like steel shutters concealed behind window curtains, to pressure sensors on the lawn, to armed security guards patrolling the perimeter. Along with his own private security that followed him everywhere.

I had been making large buys (10-20k) from some of this guy's high level dealers for quite some time. That didn't matter to this guy. The supplier wanted to strip search me as soon as I walked into the place. We had been working with the State Police, and one of their lead narcotics guys warned me that this would most likely happen.

So I had no firearm, no wire, no radio. No way to call for help. Even though 20 Troopers and about 30 guys from my department were close by. The only thing that would send them in would be either me sprinting from the house naked, or the gunshots that would kill me.

But that week we had a pregnant 16 year old girl overdose from heroin and I was fed up. We got there too late to administer Narcan (a drug that literally brings people dead from heroin overdoses back to life) It's a fucking miracle drug, but we were too late.
So, I'm getting strip-searched and I remember; my tattoo. I have a small tattoo that reads "Excelsior" on my left arm, up near my shoulder. It's the motto for my State and it means "ever upward." One of the biggest misconceptions is that drug traffickers are stupid. Now, this may be true for the lower level dealers. But we are losing the war on drugs for a reason; some of these people are brilliant. Some are former military, or former government workers, even special forces, or law enforcement agencies.

This supplier worked for a cartel, but he was a white male. The second he saw my tattoo, his eyes grew wide. "What the fuck does this refer to?" he said while pressing the tip of his knife against my tattoo. Fuck. This was it. I was caught. What could I say that would possibly get me out of this?

My mind was on autopilot, so my mouth made a move: "Uh, my dick?"

You could have heard a pin drop in that room. The supplier stared daggers at me. Before I could fully comprehend the ramifications of such a ridiculously stupid utterance, two guards had me by the arms and were yanking me down the hall, the supplier right behind us. "In there! Now!" he said.

We went into a small bedroom with a 4 post bed, not nearly as luxurious as I would have imagined for a supplier. These assholes love to flaunt their money.

The guards threw me to the floor, as the supplier shooed them out of the room. He turned to me and said "prove it."
"What?" I said.

"Prove to me that your dick is excelsior."

And with that he ripped down his overalls and bent over to reveal the largest most gaping asshole I have ever seen. It looked like the sarlaac from return of the jedi. I pressed my ear up to it and I could hear the wind flowing through it. Like a seashell, I heard the ocean in his asshole.

So, I slid my cock in. I never had a wild and crazy college phase, so some repressed asshole gape lovin' from a drug dealer hit the spot, you know?

But, my cock poked something. It felt like a water balloon full of sand. Then I realized, this guy had 35 kilos of pure snow heroin in his ayasshowll. So I pushed harder and harder, until I popped the bags, getting him high as a kite.

Eventually I ran from the house naked, prompting the troopers to execute a no knock raid, murdering everyone in the house. Eventually I was diagnosed with GRIDS and had to go to the doctor. How long do I have? I asked? About tree fiddy. he said. Then I realized this doctor was the loch nest monster. And that the office was a lake. And I couldn't swim. I died from drowning. Never forage the river. Because then Jebediah will get typhus.