Early Wednesday morning after last Tuesday’s “A Day to Remember” Concert a grisly murder took place outside the new Event Center building. Caught on the building’s much lauded security cameras, one Barnabas Billington, a junior studying High-Velocity Poetry, was attacked and killed by a masked assailant over what appears to be a parking dispute. This attack was noted as particularly gruesome and drawn out, seemingly done using only squirrel-based weaponry, allowing the late Mr. Billington to call for help on one of the campuses many blue light phones.
However, as our competitors at the Retriever Weekly have pointed out, that shit don’t work.
As such poor Barnabas was rent limb from limb, expiring shortly before sunrise. The morning after his remains were discovered by multiple students who reported the crime to the UMBC police department. The department eventually sent someone out to tape off the area, and toss a tarp over the particularly bloody bits, but have not seemed to do much since then.
In order to find out more about the process in place, we at MBC News set up an interview with the UMBC PD’s media liaison, Officer Piggly.
We arrived at the UMBC precinct, a grey brutalist cube with almost as dreary a design as the preschool on campus. We were welcomed in the atrium by Officer Piggly and brought deeper inside. He informed us that, in order to more efficiently address our concerns, he would show us the day to day activities of the police on campus so that we would better understand things from his point of view.
That was not quite we signed up for, but we figured it was good enough. Our first stop was what appeared to be a case filing room. A few officers walked back and forth, carrying stacks of paper. Our guide grabbed a few folders and showed us how they were filed.
“We have a ton of cases to process through our department; theft goes here, public indecency goes there, and sexual assault…” He chuckled. “Sexual assault goes in the corner.”
He gestured to a corner in which a dusty rug was covering a large haphazard pile of manila folders. He tossed his last folder onto the pile, and went to move on, but we stopped him to ask how any of that was anything but a total miscarriage of justice.
“Eh, I’ve never heard any complaints. If anyone wanted to protest our processes, they certainly have a ton of public opportunities to do so. Like Take Back the Night! You know, the march and rally we sponsor to make sure the ‘victims’ feel ‘safe’.” He winked, and hurried us along to the next room.
We entered what appeared to be a server room, wherein a couple police officers sat at monitors browsing numerous social media sites.
“This is where we promote and protect students’ right to free speech!” Officer Piggly proudly declared. “These days, people are so sensitive that you can’t even say ‘Oy vey, the goys know!’ without someone calling you a Nazi.”
We posited that that did in fact seem like something a Nazi would say, to which Officer Piggly responded in annoyance.
“I’m sure it was ironic. Do you call everyone you disagree with a Nazi? I think that might make you the real Nazis.” We let that statement hang in the air, so he continued, “Besides, they help us out a bunch by finding rabble-rousers on campus. People who report these perfectly harmless posts might be the types to threaten free speech by organizing public demonstrations! So, we monitor them to stop any organization of protests before they can go anywhere.”
With that we moved to the last and largest room. Here a plethora of machines processed yellow envelopes and ticker tape. In the center of the room a deep pit lay, being attended to by numerous hooded figures who ferried large boxes full of money to the pit.
“Now this,” Officer Piggly began, full of pride, “is our largest operation. The Ticket Room. Now, parking enforcement handles the actual collection, but we provide a secure location for their processing, as well as… Other things.”
We did not press to learn the nature of those other things, instead we inquired about the pit that dominated the room.
“Now that there is our pride and joy. The Pit. We put all the money we make there, and when it fills up we use that money to build a new building on campus to put parking at an even tighter premium. Which makes even more parking violations, which fills up the pit faster. By our figuring we will hit a ticket-singularity by 2030, and then the Dark Lord Cashomet will rise and purge the world of entitled students who refuse to walk 20 minutes uphill everyday to classes they paid for.”
We nodded respectfully (if a bit nervously), and he led us through the rear exit of the building.
“Now, don’t you see why we’re too busy to deal with one little murder?”