"The more you try to change things the worse they get.  So stop squirming, it'll just hurt more." The lunatic laughed loudly and continued winding the thick steel wire around the man's ankle.  Dark short hair lay matted to his head with sweat and his eyes were wide with fear.  His nostrils flared in deep panicked breathes, over the strip of black duct tape that covered his lips.  He sat in the chair bound to it with duct tape and now his wrists and ankles were coiled with 12 gauge steel wire.  The crazed man with the painted face had been wrapping the wire around his ankles since he woke up.  He could see his uniform and his gun on the table behind his captor.  The malign clown stood up and looked down at the man.

"You should trust me you know. I used to try to change things, used to try and fight against all the horrible shit in the world." The scarred and twisted monster began pulling off his clothes. "Then I got these scars and everything changed. I was into politics and I was at a big protest. I don't really remember what is what about just that it was really important; the most important thing since the last big important thing." He chuckled as he walked, in his white boxers and wife-beater, over to the table. "I had some how found my way to the vanguard of the march. Someone had made a mistake because we walked into into a wall of riot cops. I saw the agitator but I could do nothing to stop what he started. The idiot, the plant, grabbed a cop's shield and when other protesters reached out to restrain him, the cops went after them instead. I got shot in the face with a taser. That's how I got these scars. It's pretty long odds for one of the probes on a taser to hit a blood vessel. The odds on both probes hitting them are beyond comprehension. Fit's doesn't it?" His laugh rang through the room like the call of a mad animal as he finished pulling on the police uniform.

"Fits like a glove!" His clown face paint looked even more terrifying sticking out of the neck of his own uniform. He was on a drug but he had no idea what it was. The lunatic made and sold the most dangerous designer drugs in town. Some where outside the haze he could feel the pain in his bicep. Injection point; intramuscular. Beneath the make-up the face looked like his own. He was on drugs though. The sadist had given him drugs to heighten the fear. "The shock exploded my face and fried my brain. I can't sleep. I just lie down and twitch. All those nights awake and in pain I realized what I had lost to gain nothing. When the bandages came off, it was confirmed. It was all a big joke. Now I get it. Now so will you. You were a good little police cadet; infiltrate the dangerous hippies then work your way to the front and created a disturbance. Now you're my cadet. And you get to help me get into the Commissioners office." The strange clown/cop reached down into his bag and pulled out an odd rubber wedge in the shape of a crescent moon. "And you get to send a message to all the other little would be rats." He walked over and ripped the duck tape off of the bound man's face and before he could scream he jammed the over large bit into the cops mouth. With his face stretched into an absurd grin by the strange mouth plug, he knew what he should known since he woke up. He was dead already.

The clown walked off and came back wheeling 4 car batteries wired together on a pallet. He took the four ends of wire, from the cops wrists and ankles, and twisted them together pliers as the officer sobbed into the gag. The clown took the red clamp from the jumpers hooked to the battery array.

"Say Cheese!"