Submit Caption

I was looking through my old photo album where I keep news articles and other publications regarding my crime-stopping activities. Something particular caught my eye and annoyed me all day long. There was a picture in my album from a newspaper clipping without a caption. I've decided to enlist the help of the public (you) to correct this error. Your task is to submit a caption for the above picture. Think long, think hard, think legally and comment your caption.

To comment, click on the "# Protected and Served" link. You do not have to have a Blogger account, it seems. Though, I am strongly against allowing web users to peruse anonymously, it is possible, should you choose the appropriate radial.



A Nice Break

Nothing much has happened in the way of crime. A few wrong-doers put away here and there. But no big fish.

I had been stressed out about a certain suspect. I know him only by the car he drove, which is now exploded. A black Eclipse.

I vowed to find him and someday I will. But the stress was becoming unhealthy. I needed a break.

This week I got away from it all. My psychiatrist recommended it. I took a trip to Orlando.

A wonderful place it is. But the city is full of criminals. I had to remind myself that I wasn't there to destroy them, though it's what I wanted. It's something like the apple a day that keeps the doctor away. The apple represents...relaxation. The day is symbolic of a year or so. And if every year I eat some relaxation then I'll be able to have more days to fight the criminals, represented by the doctor, I think.



Buff Up

This week was a tough one for me. After the run in at Wal-Mart, I was left rather bruised and battered. It wasn't until I got home that the total feeling of disappointment hit me.

I got home and placed my new thermos on my countertop. Then, I fixed me a bowl of Cheerios. The milk to kernel ratio was just right. I sat down at the table and scooped up a bite in my spoon. The taste was good. Like the taste of victory.

But it had a bitter aftertaste. As I swallowed the delicious cereal I could see my reflection in the spoon. It was a sad sight. The upside-down, tarnished shell of a once glorious machine man.

I quickly scooped up more cereal to hide the dismal image. The bowl was soon empty. It was a perfect metaphor for my situation. A bowl without Cheerios is like a Robocop without shine. Something had to be done.

In my bedroom, atop my dresser, sat a plethora of buffing and shining products. However, none were up to par. I needed more power. This called for Froogle!

After 30 minutes of searching I found the product of my dreams. It was the Buffmaster 2000. The ad claimed that it would "burnish [me] as [I've] never been burnished before!" I certainly liked the sound of that.

Using my Patriotic Capital One Credit Card, I placed my order.

Three to four business days later it arrived. I was so excited. Indeed, I just couldn't hide it.

I quickly opened the box and pulled out the canister of Buffmaster 2000. Unfortunately I had neglected to read the instructions.

After hours of shining and buffing, I found myself still lacking luster.

I turned to the instructions and read aloud, "Lather. Rinse. Repeat." I felt like a moron. It was so simple! Yet in my haste I wasted nearly half of the Buffmaster 2000 needlessly re-lathering without first rinsing.

Even though I am one fine piece of machinery, I still make mistakes. But let my lesson be a lesson to all of you. Haste makes waste!

Now I'm back to my shiny self. It feels good. I feel me again, ready to take on anything the bad guys can throw at me and more!



Secure Groceries

I woke up this morning with a hunger. An appetite for justice and Cheerios. However, it had been weeks since I last procured provisions and I had exhausted my final bowl of Cheerios yesterday. Justice would have to wait. One cannot battle criminals on a vacant stomach, not even Robocop.

Luckily for me, the local Wal-Mart was only a short distance away. I haven't bought a car since coming out of retirement, so I had to walk.

"Hi, how are you?" said the greeter as I entered.

"I am fine, citizen," I replied. There was no time for idle chit chat. Usually I am a friendly roboguy, but I was on a mission and missions are always my top priority.

"Oh, cool!" I said, looking into one of the quarter toy dispensers, "A Bob-omb." It was as though the cute little thing called out to me. I inserted a quarter and turned the knob. A little wind-up Bob-omb came out the chute and into my palm. I wound it and set it down. It took off, marching across the floor. Then, a small girl ran by, kicking my Bob-omb right outside the open automatic doors. "No!" I shouted and ran after the toy. I looked around outside, but saw no sign of my prize. I searched my metal pants...or, uh...legs for another quarter, but alas, I had nothing but dimes and pennies.

My stomach growled. "Cheerios!" I yelled aloud. People looked awkwardly at me as I hussled back into the store.

"Hi, how are you?" the greeter asked again.

"I'm a little sad about losing my Bob-omb, but I can't stay and talk. Goodbye."

The store seemed larger than I remembered, and more perplexing. I looked around for the grocery section, but didn't see any sign of it. Time was wasting, so I decided to head to my left. Hopefully the cereal isle would be in that direction.

It seemed I had wandered into housewares. Teflon and tupperware surrounded me. There were egg timers and egg beaters, stir friers and fry makers.

Then I saw the shiny object reflected in the reflection of me reflected on it. A glistening thermos sat on the shelf, bewildering my circuits and fondling my software with its mesmorizing effulgence.

I wasted no more time lost in its enchanting spell. I grabbed the thermos. It travelled with me on my quest for the Goodness of Cheerios.

After several minutes of exploration, my thermos and I found ourselves among shelves of cereal. My processor leaped when I saw its golden box, the golden box of my honey nut Holy Grail.

But trouble was afoot. As I reached for the cardboard coffer containing my cherished Cheerios, a callow child callously clutched the commodity.

"Cease and desist or be destroyed, damnable scum!" I yelled at the offender. He let out a strange noise as he dropped the box and ran off. I launched a fire grenade over his head. It did not kill, nor maim, as my plan was to frighten the young man. The warning was clear and to the point. He certainly wouldn't be breaking the law again anytime soon.

As I headed to the check-out lanes with my thermos and Cheerios in hand, I noticed that the customers in the store seemed panicked and more agitated than usual. I attributed their distress to the clearance sale. Ten loofahs for 99 cents would send anyone all a flutter.

I took my place at the end of the 12 item or less line and read the covers of all the delightful magazines. Paris and Nicole are friends again. If only everyone could be as appropriate and lawful as those two. But no, people today don't believe in friendship like the dutiful Nicole Richie and the virtuous Paris Hilton do.

Suddenly a silent alarm sounded inside my head. My sensors were picking up an imminent crime. The citizen second in line had exactly twelve items in his shopping cart. He was reaching for a Kit Kat. If my calculations were correct, that would give him well over twelve items.

"Freeze!" I shouted lifting my Auto-9 out of its holster.

"Don't shoot," the perp pleaded.

I don't know about you, but I'm not one to take orders from a low life. I let off two warning shots up into the wall behind him.

Citizens began to flee in panic. In the commotion my enemy managed to escape, but only for a while. I would begin my search for the culprit after completing my purchase.

"Excuse me," I said to the cashier ducked behind the counter. "Is this lane open?"

"Y..y...yes," she said, rising to her feet.

I placed my thermos and cheerios onto the counter.

"Um...how are you?" the cashier asked as she scanned my items.

"I'm well. And yourself?"

"I've had better days. Worse too actually."

"Well, it is Wal-Mart."

"That'll be five sixty-three."

I gave her a six dollar bill and said, "Keep the change." There was no time for change. A fugative was on the run. Sack in hand, I walked for the exit.

"Hi. How are you?" the greeter asked.

"Out of the way, citizen!" I shouted and pushed the overweight, elderly, handicapped individual to the floor, for his own safety. Through the glass doors I could see the law breaker outside, looking around as though he had misplaced his vehicle...or perhaps he was seeking out a vehicle to purloin for his getaway.

I reached for my flame thrower nozzle and took aim, running outside toward the man. Just as the fire ejected I was hit by a passing car. A nearby shopping cart caught the blast. I fell to the ground with a roll. As I got to my feet I had a terrible realization that I was no longer shiny.

But the wrong-doer had spotted me and was frantically looking for an escape route. I pulled the trigger on my flame thrower, but it had been damaged in the fall.

I pulled out my Auto-9 and approached the scofflaw with my gun raised to his head. He trembled in fear, holding his bag of groceries.

Suddenly, he reached into the bag and pulled out an object. He tossed the bag and its other contents away as he seemed to aim the item at me. Quickly, I swung the bag containing my thermos and Cheerios into the side of his head. He spun and fell face first on the asphalt. A glass of tomato juice fell from his hand and shattered on the parking lot. His unconscious body fell on top of the broken glass.

It seemed to me he had learned his lesson. And my flame thrower was malfunctioning so I had no way to set him ablaze. I decided to leave him be. "When you awake," I said to the languid hoodlum, "Remember the wrong you have done. Devote yourself to righting it. Not just the wrong of today, but every wrong you have ever committed. Next time, I won't be so lenient."

As my words undoubtedly repeated within his tranced encephalon I turned to leave. I took a short pause and thought to myself, Nobody will dare mess with this Wal-Mart now



Welcome Readers

Welcome to Cyber Patrol V4.8!

You may remember me from the late 80's and early 90's. Yes, it really is me, Robocop. Fortunately, I am new and improved. Bad guys beware, and innocent bystanders too!

There has been a lot of change since my days of crimefighting. The internet has grown into a cesspit of criminal activity. Americans have become fat, lazy slobs. And a robot is Governor of California. It's a sad sight, but worry not for I will whip you readers into shape and hunt down and destroy every low life in the world.

My new Directives are as follows:

  1. Investigate the public.
  2. Suspect the innocent.
  3. Slap all sissies
  4. Resurrect Disco
  5. Educate the ignorant masses
  6. Destroy any unlawful persons
  7. Set fire to unlawful things.
  8. Always be shiny
  9. Learn Japanese
  10. Regulate the internet