Public Small Crimes Division: Naboobian Victims Unit

[Rance Valere]

A desk.

A mother-lovin', stuck-in-one-place, going nowhere desk.

Rance stared at it for a while. It was only a few months ago that his career looked bright and hopeful. Now he had the rank, but not the respect or notoriety to go with it. Being in a new environment also didn't help. Coruscant was a bustling ecumenopolis. Crime was of the highest degree and frequent. The need for detectives working long hours, for poor over time rates was very high. It was the environment he thrived in. He lived for the lifestyle.

But this...

A fellow Junior Detective had just introduced him to the procedures of the Small Crimes Division. Rance expected burglaries, speeder-jackings, assaults or maybe even a missing persons report. Apparently, that was on the bigger end of the crime on Naboo. The Small Crimes Division normally handled disputing neighbours, shoplifting by clout seeking socialites or even the exciting prospect of 'suspcious looks' from the 'creepy guy down the road'.

Rance's co-worker had seemed really nice. Too nice, if you asked Rance. They had clearly either only just joined the Royal Naboo Security Force, or they were one of those annoying always-happy types. Worse still, they could actually have so little bad stuff happening that their mind had not been burdened with the memories of a hundred murders...

Please...let there be something exciting...or at least...mildly intriguing...

It was going to be a long road back to the top for Rance Valere. But for now he would take his seat, and wait for the reports to come in.

"Open the doors."

Spoiler: OOC

If you would, I would love to have the most asinine and petty crimes be reported. Let your imagination go wild. I want you to really annoy this guy.

 

[Rance Valere]

The first person through the door was someone Rance could only describe as perfectly proportioned. He had to fight the urge to raise his eyebrows and double take. The woman who walked in was valuptous to say the least. Curvaceous was an understatment. As she walked, hips swayed to and fro like a pendulum in an old grandfather clock. It was all Rance could do to not be mesmerized. But then the bosom.

Oh my.

As she marched towards his desk her chest seemed to go not just hither, but also thither. That's right! HITHER AND THITHER.

"The neighbor stole three chickens from me," she said, in a sultry tone, but the words were also parroted by an unseen person.

The tall, leggy beautiful blonde stopped before the desk with her hand on her hip and sex in her eyes. Out from behind the not unsubstantial hips of the woman came an old wizened woman, wrinkled by the passing of time. To say that she was a stark reminder as to the vanity of beauties inevitable fading and the effects of gravity were an understatement.

"I said, the neighbor stole three chickens from me," she said in her gravely old tone.

"Oh dear," Rance said, standing from his desk.

"These are my prize chickens. And I want them back. They have laid the gold star winning eggs for the last 4 years...and I want them back."

"Well...I don't know who to believe...really," Rance stammered after realizing his head had almost brushed against the blonde's protruding assets.

"They are my chickens, darling," said the blonde woman, but her eyes said...so...so much more.

Rance found himself with a lump in his throat.

"They are my chickens ya backstabbing wench," hissed the older woman.

"Whoa...whoa...calm down ladies," Rance said with hands up, and then a smile creeping across his face. He had an idea.

Moving from behind the desk, hands behind his back, he paused for a moment with the women eyeing him suspiciously. "Let's just...bring the chickens in here shall we...I can have someone...divide them in half...and you can have half each."

"Sounds fair," shrugged the blonde.

"Ah...what do you mean...divide?" Asked the older woman.

"I mean...we cut them in half," Rance said, without any change in emotion.

The blonde woman shrugged again, while repeating her answer. "Sounds fair."

The older woman looked horrified. "No...no...please don't they are my pride and joy...I just want them back!"

Rance grinned. Casting an eye towards the thief, in case you missed it it was the blonde, and said, "Now miss. Shake your little old self back down to where ever you are keeping those chickens and give them back to this kind lady."

Triumphant, the older woman departed mocking the sulking, no longer sauntering blonde as they exited the building.

"NEXT," called Rance.

Spoiler: OOC

Didn't have much to work with. So this is what you got. Enjoy! Also, note that this post is in no way the intented theme of the thread, the whole Naboobian thing is an indepedent not so funny gag on my behalf and has no relation thematically to this thread or this post in particular. Thanks.

| A ARS VAMI |​

 

[Doctor Boidzerg]

"Police Person.... Police Person. My home was stolen! It had a sandwich I've been saving. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going for a scuttle."

 

[Rance Valere]

"Police Person.... Police Person. My home was stolen! It had a sandwich I've been saving. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going for a scuttle."

Valere stood cautiously as the crab...thing...came blustering into the room.

"Your home?"

He was confused, did this species carry some form of shell type home on their back? Was it a poaching situation? Was this man being hunted! Rance felt a sense of excitement starting to build as thought of the fantastical applications of his presuppositions.

"A...sandwich?" He said with a sideways twitch of his head and furrowed brows.

And then, the complainant was on his way out the door.

"Sir! You forgot to fill out your T-9B-Thirty-three form..."

Too late. He was gone.

Two monks belonging to a sect of Naboo, shaved hair, no beard and always at least in pairs entered the district asking for the Small Crimes Division office. Their clothes are usually white, more or less elaborate according to the level in the group. Smooth and no frills for altar boys, a simple belt for novices and then more and more elaborate. Only very few were allowed to cover their heads. Outside waiting in front of Valere's office, the couple made the policemen smile (or worse) because today their clothes were dyed with various colors.

With the scuttling over, Rance looked up to note a pair of monks. With a subtle wave, he indicated that they could approach.

 

[Ra Akimo]

Mid-day. Near the falls. Lakeside walk. Woman in her twenties had stopped to admire the scenery.

Male, forties, sat on a nearby bench. Cast a few cubes of bread into the water.

Ducks, ages unknown, flapped their wings. Splashed the woman.

She demands an apology.

From the ducks.

Ra let out a slow sigh after submitting the complaint to the system. Perhaps Naboo was too safe. Not that she was eager to lose another arm; and no, a cybernetic replacement didn't compensate for the loss no matter what features it had. Well, the Detective would have his hands full with this one. She'd already tried explaining how you coudn't get ducks to apologize for anything -- not to mention the language barrier.

 

[Rance Valere]

Looking over a report that had just been filed, Rance frowned. Ducks?

What was he supposed to do with...ducks? Leaning back on his chair, Rance shouted towards the back office. "Ducks!?"

"They go in Public Nuisance file - Ducks," came a nasally voice.

"There's a file just for ducks?" He sounded incredulous, ruing his decision to move to Naboo.

"Just file it."

His head turned slowly back towards the console on his desk, and slowly reached forth with his index finger. The weight of regret dropped his finger on the button...and...it was filed.

Spoiler: fyi

| Ra Akimo |