To Protect and Serve

Kirgo woke up to the buzz of his alarm clock. He picked up the framed picture of the Virgin Mary that stood on his bedside table and kissed her on the forehead. He drew his medal of Saint Christopher out of the drawer by the chain, and before he clasped it around his neck, he kissed that too. Finally, he turned off his alarm, pulled on the pair of sweat pants he set out the night before, and made his bed.

Kirgo’s morning workout consisted of Shouting Practice, followed by Pepper Spray Accuracy, followed by How to Kill a Man.” Shouting Practice entailed standing in front of the mirror and shouting “Stop right there,” “Hold it,” and “If you don’t put that back right now, I’ll have to call the police” until his face and neck flushed red and bulged with veins. Pepper Spray Accuracy meant that he quick-drew the canister from the pouch clipped to the band of his sweat pants while he jumped side to side and shot the rifle-range target he tacked to the wall by the bureau. For How to Kill a Man, Kirgo acted out various scenarios that might arise at work that could necessitate the killing of his opponent. On the mornings he felt particularly confident with shouting, Kirgo merged How to Kill a Man and Shouting Practice into Applied Shouting While Killing.

That morning, Kirgo felt great about shouting practice. He felt so great about it that he added, “Shut the fuck up,” skipped pepper spray aim, and dove straight into Applied Shouting While Killing.

Kirgo slunk down the length of his bed like a SWAT officer, pepper spray held in both hands, aimed up. When he reached the end of the bed, he jumped forward, turning in mid air and extending both arms. “Hold it right there,” he shouted, then added, “Criminal.” The squirt of the pepper spray splattered against the wall, and he pivoted to his right and fired at the target. The red liquid hit low, at neck level, so Kirgo repeated the exercise until he got it right. Scenario two depicted an attempted paper clip theft escalating into an armed robbery. He tackled his coat rack like it was the larcenous gunman, locked his forearm around its throat, and broke the top six inches off.

Feeling slightly over-zealous and drenched with sweat from exertion and tension, Kirgo declared himself fit for action to the mirror and trotted to the shower.