monstrousalmeida:

“I used to be a beat cop along time ago … and I’d get called out on domestic disputes all the time, hundreds probably over the years. But there was this one guy, this one piece of shit that I will never forget. Gordie. He looked like Bo Svenson, you remember him? Walking tall, you don’t remember? No? Anyway, big boy, 270-280. But his wife … or whatever she was, his lady, real small, like a bird, wrists like little branches. Anyway, my partner and I would get called out there every weekend, and one of us would pull her aside and say ‘come on, tonights the night we press charges.’ And this wasn’t one of those, ‘deep down he loves me’ setups, we got alot of those, but not this. This girl wasn’t gonna cross him, no way, no how. Nothing we could do but pass her off to the EMT’s, put him in a car, drive him downtown, throw him in a drunktank, he sleeps it off, next morning he goes, back home. But one night … my partner is out sick, and it’s just me. And a call comes in and it’s the usual crap. Broke her nose in the shower kind of thing. So I cuff him, put him in the car, and away we go. But that night, we’re driving into town, and this sideways asshole is in my backseat humming “danny boy”, and it just rubbed me wrong. So instead of left, I go right, heading to nowhere. And I lean him down, and put my revolver in his mouth, and I told him, ‘this is it, this is how it ends.’ And he’s crying, going to the bathroom all over himself, swearing to God he’s going to leave her alone, screaming … as much as you can with a gun in your mouth. And I told him to be quiet, that I need to think about what I’m going to do here. And of course he went quiet, goes still, then real quiet, like a dog waiting for dinner scraps. And we just stood there for a while. Me acting like I’m thinking things over, him, prince charming knealing in the dirt with shit in his pants. And after a few minutes I take the gun out of his mouth and say, so help me if you touch her again, I will such and such and blah blah blah.”

“Just a warning?”

“Of course … just trying to do the right thing. But 2 weeks later he killed her. Of course. Caved her head in with a base of a blender. We got there, there was so much blood you could taste the metal. The moral of the story is, I chose a half measure. When I should have gone all the way. I’ll never make that mistake again … No more half measures Walter.”

…this scene was flawless.