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Chanson de pest
WEST BOWLES AVENUE — Angelica was fairly a-swoon with indignation. Accused of indiscretion by that scoundrel, Percival, she bade deputies to defend her womanly honor. She and Percival, she sighed, are both chattel of an eating house famed in the land for serving recipes native to the Italian provinces and prepared with field-fresh ingredients of surpassing wholesomeness. On the afternoon of April 1, the cad Percival sent swinish a text accusing the chaste Angelica of spreading unseemly “gossip” that, upon reaching the delicate alabaster ears of his beloved Gwendoline, caused his heart’s desire to “dump” Percival like a leathern sack of hammers. Angelica archly dismissed the charge, which only added peat to the flame of Percival’s hot wrath and increased his churlish denunciations tenfold. Seeking a champion, Angelica turned first to her supervisor and liege, who told Percival that if he didn’t desist in distressing the damsel he’d be summarily dispossessed. Thence, fearing lest Percival should “slash the tires” of her bonnie Barouche, she cast her plaint upon JCSO deputies, who pledged unto her all the sympathy and support that the Office of Shirriff allows.

No. 2 vs. No. 2
WEST COAL MINE AVENUE — Deeply committed to the selfless service of his neighborhood constituents, the vice president’s duty was clear. When the biker boldly rode his motorcycle “across the sidewalk” on March 21 and then impetuously parked it “in the common area” as plainly proscribed by HOA regulations, Vice President didn’t  hesitate to notify JCSO of the technical transgression and have deputies roust the rascal’s ride. Alas, the warm glow of civil rectitude that washed over him that day was destined to be dimmed by a vulgar and corrupting hand. Hearing a knock several days later, Vice President opened his door to find its exterior handle befouled and his doormat of an aspect entirely unwelcoming. Both had been smeared with “animal feces,” and Vice President was instantly self-persuaded that the poop-applying perp could be none other than the upbraided biker, which is exactly what he told JCSO deputies. Unfortunately for justice, Vice President didn’t know the fellow’s name, but he was pretty sure he was the non-resident boyfriend of a young lady resident whose name he also didn’t know. Since he’d been able to “flick” the offending feces off of the doormat and there appeared to be “no permanent damage done” to the door handle, Vice President merely requested that officers document the dung against the possibility of future befoulings. He additionally stated that he was thinking about installing “a motion-activated doorbell video monitoring system,” but that he’d not yet made “a final decision.” Deputies left Vice President alone to wrestle with sticky questions of domestic defense.

Perp with a purpose
WEST QUINCY PLACE — On the night of April 2, dispatchers alerted the deputy to possible problems at Marston Lake. Descending swiftly lakeside, the officer observed a man on the encircling trail trying to get his attention with a flashlight and walked over to assess the nature of his riparian emergency. The man said he’d been jogging around the lake when a stranger walking along the street about 50 feet away suddenly targeted him for terror. “I’ll shoot you!” the stranger  screamed. “That’s what I’m here for!” The complainant wisely chose to keep his peace and put some distance between himself and his harasser, whose direct threats quickly devolved into a running string of non-specific expletives. The complainant jogged to a nearby house and asked the startled homeowner to dial 911, then returned to the lake to await official assistance. He described the pugnacious pedestrian as a man of medium height, not obviously armed, and last seen entering a nearby “treed” area. Deputies scouted lake and forest for the obscene stranger but came up dry.