Sometimes a cop could never take breaks on duty.

While Roger ate his donut, a kid grabbed a purse from an old woman and dashed across the street.

“Help!” the lady cried. “That brat stole my purse!”

Roger sighed and placed his half-eaten donut back into the pink box. “Hold this for me.”

His partner, Spencer, took the box. “Go get him, tiger.”

Roger stepped out of the cop car and pulled out his baton. “Hey! Stop right there!”

The kid was running fast. He was already close to a pizza parlor, one block from Roger’s position. But he won’t get far.

Roger sprinted down the street and jumped over a taxi. After he landed on the sidewalk, he dashed straight for the thief.

Roger wasn’t a typical fat cop who liked to eat donuts and sit around in his car. He took his job seriously like an excellent cop. Donuts weren’t the only things he liked to eat. He usually ate a balanced diet with a lot of protein to keep his cardio energized. To keep the fat down, he worked out at the station’s gym to expand his muscle mass. It helped him increase his strength, so his fellow officers took him seriously.

When he spots crime, he holds nothing back.

Too bad his fellow officers never got off their rear ends to stop petty criminals. If the civilians don’t trust the police, how could the police keep the city stabilized?

No matter what kind of crime it was, crime was a crime. Nobody was above the law.

“Stop!” Roger was almost close to the kid now.

The kid looked back and ran faster.

Roger pushed a man in a business suit out of his way while the man was talking on his cellphone.

Roger respected the civilians, but if anyone gets in his way, consequences will slap them in their faces.

That man should have paid attention instead of worrying about his cellphone. He should be lucky he didn’t walk across the street without looking.

The brat looked back and pushed a fruit cart down. Green and red apples spilled down across Roger’s path while the shopkeeper yelled at the boy.

Roger jumped over the apples and picked one up. He aimed and tossed the apple straight toward the kid.

Score!

The apple hit the back of the kid’s head, and he fell to the ground.

Roger approached the little runt and placed his handcuffs on the kid’s wrists. The kid was only seventeen, wearing a dirty coat and a beanie.

“You have the right to remain silent,” said Roger. “Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law.”

“Please don’t take me to jail!” The kid cried. “My sister is sick! I needed money to buy medicine!”

Roger lifted the kid up. “I told you to remain silent.”

The kid closed his eyes while tears dripped down his cheeks. “Please….. She is dying!”

Geez, why won’t this kid listen to me? Roger thought.

If he needed money for his sister, he shouldn’t have robbed the poor woman near Roger’s car. For another fact, he might be lying too.

Street thieves were sometimes clever to make up stories to escape. But Roger knew better than to let a little liar escape from him.

“I’m sorry, but I am taking you in,” said Roger. “Stealing is stealing.”

The kid cried. “Sis…..”

Roger's police car parked next to the sidewalk close by. Spencer stepped out and tugged his uniform under his large belly. He was in his forties with white hair around his bald head.

“Good work, Roger,” he said. “Damn, that kid ran too fast. But nobody can outrun you.”

That was why Roger’s last name was Bullet.

He stared at the kid again, still moaning.

While holding his arms, Roger could feel the kid’s pulse pumping hard. Maybe the kid was telling the truth.

If his sister was on death’s bed, he couldn’t think of a reasonable action to buy medicine. Based on his dirty clothing, the kid and his sister could be homeless. Being sick on the street was a death sentence for those who couldn’t afford treatment.

Roger sighed and uncuffed the kid. “Okay, kid. I will let you off this time.”

The kid rubbed his wrists and stared at Roger with a puzzled face. Roger pulled out twenty dollars and handed it to the kid. “Head to the pharmacy. This should be enough for whatever you need.”

The kid nodded and took the bills. “Thank you, officer!”

After the kid dashed off, Spencer blinked his eyes at Roger. “Did you just let a thief escape?”

Roger smiled and held up the purse. “I got the lady’s purse back.”

Spencer shrugged. “You’re lucky I am not the chief. He would put you in the slammer with that kid.”

"Well, he isn’t here. Where's my donut?"

Spencer burped. “Sorry! I ate them all.”

Roger shook his head.

Spencer was a typical fat cop. Sometimes Roger wondered how he got stuck with him.

From the car, the cop radio clicked.

“Officer Roger and Spencer, do you copy?” the lady’s voice asked.

Roger approached the car and grabbed the radio’s speaker. “This is Roger. I copy.”

“We have a break-in at the San Francisco Zoo. Can you please investigate, over?”

“Copy that. We will check it out.” Roger placed the radio speaker back and turned to Spencer. “Let’s go. After this, you are buying me another donut.”

Spencer shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Both of the cops sat into the car and turned on the siren. After Spencer closed the door, he stepped on the gas.

Roger laid back against the passenger seat. He might be an excellent runner, but the run exhausted him.

"So what made you decide to let that kid go?" Spencer asked.

Roger gazed at the window. "Just a feeling, I guess. The kid behaved like he was telling the truth. I couldn't bring him to jail."

“Well, I do trust you. After all, you never let the force down.”

Roger smiled.

He wished he could return to his condo and laid down on his queen-size bed. But something was going on at the zoo. Who would want to break-in there?