This is my first time publishing fan fiction. Hope you enjoy. Also, most of the names of the characters are based on my school's production of Urinetown.
It was a normal day in wherever Urinetown (the musical) is set in. The poor were and complaining about the fee hikes, Cladwell was forcing his employees to sing praises to him, and the middle class was no where to be found. It was on this day, that things changed.
Officer J. Lockstock was patrolling with his partner, a dangerous homosexual by the name of, Christine Barrel. Both of them where hanging around the poor part of town, hoping to find a poor person trying to pee for free so they could send them to Urinetown, while putting on a nice duet. But sadly, all the poor were obeying the laws, so Lockstock and Barrel were left to sit in the squad car.
The first ten minutes were bearable. Lockstock fiddled with the radio while Barrel had browsed a cookbook that for some reason he kept in the car.
"This sucks ass." Lockstock looked over at Barrel.
"What do you suggest Christine? We just go out there and beat someone up for no reason?"
Barrel took out a pocket knife and pointed it at Lockstock. "You call me Christine one more time and I will personally castrate you, taxidermy your dick, and sew it on to my body." He put the knife away. "And you know, that's actually not a bad idea." Barrel put his feet on the dashboard.
Lockstock shoved Barrel's feet off the dashboard. Barrel glared at him and started fidgeting with his pocket knife.
The next fifteen to twenty minutes were possibly the scariest in Lockstock's life.
Barrel had taken to staring out the window while gripping the pocket knife in his hand, with the grip occasionally tightening. Lockstock gripped the steering wheel as if dear life depended on it and praying to his lord and savior.
After exactly twenty one minutes and thirty five seconds, Barrel slammed the knife closed and shoved it back into his pocket. "You know what we should do, Lockstock?"
"What?" Lockstock slowly took his hands off the wheel, one going towards his taser. Just in case.
"We should, just relax, y'know?"
"Yeah but the nothing's gonna happen!" Barrel leaned over to Lockstock, putting one hand on Lockstock's crotch to keep balance. "I say we call it a day."
Lockstock shoved Barrel from off of him. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself or I will personally throw you off the UGC building, so Cladwell help me."
Barrel stuck his tongue out at him and started digging in the glovebox.
"What are you even looking for Chris-," Barrel practically threw daggers at him with his glare. "Barrel?"
No response. Barrel just kept looking. Lockstock sighed and leaned back in the car seat, closing his eyes.
"Found it!" Lockstock jumped and turned to the right. Barrel held up a small baggie containing some green leaves. "Do you happen to have a lighter with you?"
"What is that?"
"Weed. That kid who cleans Amenity 666 gave it to me if I didn't tell anyone that I caught him pissing behind a tree," Barrel started rolling a joint. "You want a puff?"
"We can't smoke it!" Lockstock grabbed the bag out of Barrel's lap.
"We're working, first off. Second, does that contract you signed at the police academy mean nothing to you?"
"Not really." Barrel grabbed the bag from Lockstock and finished rolling the joint. He started looking through the glove compartment again.
"Sometimes I wonder why you even bothered joining the force, if keeping the moral values means nothing to you." Lockstock crossed his arms and turned away from Barrel.
"C'mon, Lockstock, don't be like that, here," A strong scent of chemical herbs with a chemical tinge filled Lockstock's nose. Lockstock turned and saw Barrel take a deep inhale of the joint and exhale smoke, coughing loudly. "Try some."
"I refuse to take part in this." Lockstock tried to open the car door, but found it was locked. "Barrel. Open the door."
Barrel took another puff of the joint. "No can do, Mr. Locky-stocky. We're here for a good time. Both of us. Together."
"I'm not going to smoke it."
"No problem, you'll get a second hand high anyways, what, with all this smoke and all."
Lockstock sat there for a good minute, before sighing and turning to Barrel. "Hand it over."
Barrel winked and handed him the joint. Lockstock raised an eyebrow at it, but smoked it anyways.
"Fucking shit." He wheezed. "Are you sure this is just weed?"
No response. Lockstock turned to his right and found an empty stage.
Turning left revealed the same thing.
A faceless group of people sat in chairs in front of him, staring, waiting. Their eyes hungry. Lockstock shivered in fear.
"Well, hello there, and welcome to Urinetown," He continued his opening monologue, all the while fearing the audience would be unsatisfied and decide to send him to the unknown place he dreaded to face. For only an audience could kill a narrator. "And that is the central conceit of the show!"
The audience was silent. Still watching. Lockstock felt his shoulders shake and felt a strange lump in throat. Tears suddenly started pouring down his cheeks. He collapsed on the stage, crying and begging to audience to please forgive him. He was only doing his job! They couldn't kill him! Not yet!
A sudden slap to the face brought him back to the squad car.
All the windows were rolled down and the air condition was on full blast. All traces of weed where gone and replaced with the scent of cheap pine air freshener. Barrel now sat in the driver's seat, staring at him.
"Oh thank god, I thought you died for a moment." Barrel started the car and rolled the windows up. "You just started crying and begging not to die." Lockstock felt the car start driving down the street. "So, yeah, I'm not sure about that. Whatever, our shift's over. Fun way to kill time, don't you think?"
Lockstock still the felt the piercing gaze of the faceless crowd all over his body. He shuddered and noticed that the bag of weed was still there. He waited until they stopped at a light, made direct eye contact with Barrel and threw it out the window.
"Lockstock! What the fuck!"
"I'm never smoking weed again."