and i'm so glad! (oh brad) ; kara's junkyard

This was for a previous site I was on, and Charlie was a policewoman. The police Department was referred to as 'Pax Pacis'. Her boss, whom she disliked immensely, was named Lawley.


Charlie stared down at her bowl of honey nut cheerios, nudging the small donut-shaped pieces into flower patterns with the end of her spoon. The milk rippled as soon as the metal touched its smooth surface, causing her previous oat formations to split apart and float away. Charlie bit her lip, gliding them back into place, which, in turn, caused even more cheerios to stray. Thoroughly frustrated, she leaned back in her chair for a moment, turning her attention to the flickering television screen in the living room. A re-run of ‘Ghostbusters’ was playing on mute, the unmistakable image of Sigourney Weaver walking down a street toting a baby carriage. She stopped to talk to somebody, letting go of the carriage, and suddenly it went rolling down the road on its own. Charlie pivoted in her seat to watch the events unfold as Sigourney rushed down the street after her baby. What would it be like to have hair like that, brown and kind of poof-y? Sigourney could hide things, probably, like papers and keys and lots of stuff! And evidence too, for further clarification later at the lab if Sigourney was part of Pax Pacis. Charlie considered asking for something like that next time at the salon, because it would definitely be productive and handy. And then she would definitely be a better cop than Lawley because he was a boy, and he didn’t have lots of hair. Smiling, she turned back to her cereal, scribbling ‘jumbo hairs’ onto the back of her hand with the neon green gel pen she always kept on the table for times like these. Speaking of the time… Charlie glanced at her arm, but as usual she didn’t have a watch on. Instead, she peeked at the clock on the microwave: 7:39 pm. Hmm… dipping her spoon back into the cereal, she scooped up a spoonful. 7:39… which meant she still had the night to do anything. Picking up the bowl, she stood up and rested it next to the sink, dropping the frosted spoon into the dishwasher. Bolting into the living room, she flopped down onto the couch, turning up the volume on the outdated TV she had purchased from an old neighbor’s garage sale when first moving to Switchblade; it was square and a bit bulky for a 17’’ set, but it had pink neon lights around the edges and a pretty good sound quality, and it worked well. “Egon, I didn’t imagine this.” “I’m not saying you did…” Charlie grinned. Poor Sigourney, Harold Ramis probably didn’t believe her about the ghosts. She could probably get proof, and she could hide the video camera in her hair, which would be extremely cool…