# Alastair & The Doorman: Civil Devils



## Abishai100 (Oct 28, 2017)

This is a civics-dysptopian vignette inspired by the civics-nihilism films _Internal Affairs_ and _Disorderlies_.

Cheers,


====

Alastair was a terrible policeman working for the LAPD. He was rotund (to say the least!), and he was a glutton, so you could find him most likely at the local donut-shop sipping overly-sugared coffee and chomping on about five to fix doughnuts every night. Alastair was 30 years-old now and was a 'trusted' member of the LAPD. He loved 'working' as a cop, but mostly, he enjoyed the 'spotlight' of having the opportunity to do whatever was 'necessary' but not necessarily laborious or stringent. Alastair was the prototypical 'bad cop,' the kind comedians and film-makers meditated on when they presented characterizations of the general tedium of modern bureaucracy. Alastair did not mind, since he did not feel any threats to his 'position.'


 

Alastair got the mission-order from this station-chief one day to investigate a new serial killer who had a particularly deranged pattern and 'style' of mayhem and murder. This L.A. psycho called himself the Doorman, and his method of criminality was to slam the hands and fingers of victims in doors of buildings and houses, victims who were walking out of these establishments alone and late at night. The Doorman would slam the doors on the hands/fingers of victims (leaving a terrible bloody 'memento' for the LAPD to find) and then slit the throats of the victims and leave them to die bleeding. Alastair knew the Doorman was a typical 'civilization nemesis,' and he worked as hard as could be expected from a 'lazy bad cop' chasing this new psycho.

 

Alastair tracked the Doorman to a modest apartment near a Barnes & Noble bookstore. The psycho's real name was Thomas Ford, a civil servant who worked for the L.A. subway system. Ford was a loner and kept to himself, and witnesses claimed he would often be reading books at the Barnes & Noble and then coming home if he wasn't working. They found Ford strange and reclusive and gossiped about his 'dark secret life.' Alastair wrestled Ford to the ground and cuffed him (since he had procured a warrant --- surprisingly methodical for Alastair!). Alastair hauled off Ford to prison where he would await his trial, but before the trial Alastair himself questioned the Doorman.

ALASTAIR: You're a real piece of work, Ford...
DOORMAN: Don't you like doors, officer?
ALASTAIR: I don't like doors slamming on peoples' hands.
DOORMAN: You like Los Angeles?
ALASTAIR: I like doughnuts and coffee and the Lakers.
DOORMAN: You're certainly the representative 'rotund' rascal...
ALASTAIR: We all cheer for civilization in our own way, Ford.
DOORMAN: Call me 'Doorman.'
ALASTAIR: So what's the link between your doors and social cynicism?
DOORMAN: The door is a passage into the rooms of society.
ALASTAIR: Do you believe your victims are somehow impolite/irreverent?
DOORMAN: No one is reverent, and most people are revenants, officer.
ALASTAIR: A 'revenant' is a zombie; I'm a cop!
DOORMAN: I wanted you to catch me; I wish to highlight the 'tedium' of civics.
ALASTAIR: Oh, and I'm your prototypical 'lazy fat-cop,' eh, Ford?
DOORMAN: It's astonishing to me that you don't see your own arrogance...
ALASTAIR: I'm getting a doughnut to celebrate the fact that L.A. 'doors' are safe!
DOORMAN: Well, I suppose that's all thanks to you...fat-man.

====


----------

