By Chris Samiullah

‘Patrol Car 1, just received a call detailing suspected W.T.F., what is your current location?’

Dan linked his fingers and pushed his palms away from his face, eliciting a series of popping and crackling sounds. He calmly opened the door of his car and, leaning out, pressed one nostril with his index finger and snorted extravagantly. Slamming the door he turned to his new partner Sally and said with a grin,

‘Show time,’ grabbing his mobile phone he suddenly became more serious, ‘Control, this is P.C. 1 reporting in, current location is Heslington Road.’

The voice that spoke to him was professional but slick; under different circumstances she might have sounded sexy.

‘Be advised, W.T.F. at St. Lawrence drive, house 17. Perp is becoming violent and has assaulted a man attempting to make a citizen’s arrest.’

‘On our way,’ said Dan, typing the address into the dashboard computer. The car eased around the traffic, accelerating well past the pre-programmed speed limit, its hydrogen motor whirring contentedly. Dan leaned back and turned to regard his new partner. Sally had begun loading her pistol with compliance cartridges, handling each bullet with care. Dan raised an eyebrow.

‘Ow, put that away. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way.’ He pointed to the tazor at his belt. Without a glance up, Sally continued loading the slightly malleable ammo and said, ‘I don’t think so. Have you ever had 10,000 volts course through your veins?’

‘Give over, they’re fat, they can take it with all that padding.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Why don’t you just put that dow-’

‘-No!’ Dan yelled, ‘Look. You’re new to policing; you haven’t seen the damage fatties can do unchecked. You let one get off easy, pretty soon people stop taking their medication, and the next thing you know there’s an army of fatties on your porch, then they’re in your house raping you’re wife.’

‘Don’t be absurd, they’re a nuisance and a drain, not a menace.’

‘Just you wait, Sally. You wait until you see one in the flesh. Then you’ll change your tune.’

‘Dan, please. We’re almost there, you need to be calm.’

Dan’s head whipped round to look at her with a slightly crazed glint in his eye; he picked up his tazor and pressed the charge button, eliciting a rising whine.

‘I’m calm,’ he said.

The crime scene was more complicated than they had been led to believe. A group of student human rights activists were waving placards and making a racket. Dan ignored the chants and glares.

‘Freedom to choose!’

‘Respect individuality!’

‘Keep the fatties!’

He barged through the students, smirking at cries of police brutality. And there he was, the perp, the guy who was Way Too Fat. He was sitting on the pavement, head bowed, he struck Dan as rather composed, almost monk-like. Upon hearing the approach of the police the man looked up with a steady gaze, and a set jaw.

‘So,’ he said with a bewildering calm, ‘You’ve come to take me in. Well I won’t try and stop you, I’m tired of running. Do you feel big? Do you feel like guardians of justice and morality? Tell me, officers, do you sleep well at night?’

‘Cut the Jiminy Cricket crap,’ snarled Dan, ‘we’re shipping your fat arse to Guantanamo Two so best learn to stop being a wise guy. Fast. Oh, you look surprised! Well guess what, pal, as of the 2050 Bill, W.T.F. is an international offence.’

The man slowly nodded, closing his eyes as he did so.

‘I’m not surprised, just saddened. You’re so proud of democracy, so in love with the illusion of freedom that it gives you. Yet you punish me for refusing to chemically alter my body, even though I’m not hurting anyone. Why can’t I have that basic freedom?’

Dan began pacing, casting frequent disgusted looks at the sitting man.

‘All you W.T.F.’s are the same, all this it’s my life crap. You never consider the damage you do, crippling the health service with your disease, crippling the environment with your transportation, crippling the economy with your laziness. Redefining you guys is what’s for the best.’

‘It’s not what’s best for me! I thought we lived in a society where every individual had choices, had value…’

Sally, who had been listening attentively, as well as darting worried looks at her subtly shaking partner, spoke for the first time.

‘We also live in a society, where one individual cannot be allowed to consume so much more than another. W.T.F.s are five times more likely to suffer from heart disease. Before the Clamp Down treating those heart diseases cost the tax payer billions. There comes a time where the rights of the individual are forfeited.’

‘Is that what they teach you at the academy? They sure as hell don’t teach you how to think. Alcohol costs the health service billions, they haven’t banned that! No, no, wouldn’t want to risk upsetting the majority eh? It just boils down to bullying. Moral action becomes less appealing when it threatens the majority. Still the government won’t apologise for bulldozing every mosque in this country in the Clamp Down, it was a necessary precaution to safeguard freedom, still they support Israel after it nuked Palestine, still the-’

The man suddenly began to electro convulse, spittle flying everywhere, a twisted croak struggling to escape. After perhaps a second he collapsed in a moaning heap, eyes rolling back, vomit trickling from the corner of his mouth. Dan blew the top of his tazor in mock cowboy style, and re-holstered the weapon,

‘Well, I guess fatties aren’t that different after all! They sure dance like anyone else. Never talked to one like that before…the thing he didn’t get was who’s right is who’s got the tazor! Grab his feet Sally; I can’t lift this tub of lard into the car on my own.’

‘Well you’re gonna have to you dumb schmuck!’ Screamed Sally, enraged at her partner’s nonchalance.

A grim silence hung in the air as Dan awkwardly dragged the man over to the car. The students who hadn’t run away were dumbstruck, though many silently filmed the ‘arrest.’ Sally’s phone went off, telling her to take her medication. The sound of the body rasping against the pavement seemed to grate against inside of her skull. Or perhaps that was just her conscience howling.