True Story©… The (un)Usual Suspect

 


I kind of saw this shit coming…
One could point to that premonition as the very reason for my recent commitment to rehabbing the Moe Phillips name.

     As the both of you know I have been working from home since two days after Meka’s birthday in 2020.
[Phlip Note: HI MEKA!!!]
Since then, and as documented in these very pages, I have employed Moe Phillips in my miscreance as a means of making some semblance of fun out here in this fucked up world without the onus of facing the circumstances of my actions.

… until I had to face the consequences of my actions.

     Last Wednesday, I watched out of the window of my lower-level window as a Greensboro PD cruiser stopped in front of my house and sat there for a few minutes before approaching my door.
Oh shit.
Rather than allow them to get all the way to the door and excite my dogs with the presence of a stranger, I met them at the front porch…

Me: “Good afternoon, officers.  What can you help me with?”

Detective: “Good afternoon, sir.  My name is officer Jimothy and this is officer Greaseback.”

I couldn’t help myself…

Me: “Jimothy?  Like Timothy, with a J?”

Detective: “Yes.”

Me: “Wow!  And your name is--…  Greaseback?”

Detective: “Yes sir.”

Me: “I gather you guys are somewhere between 30 and 40, just to look at you.  You guys ostensibly made it through public school and then the police academy and CLEARLY ate a lifetime of bullying related to those names and still chose not to legally change them as soon as you could?”

Detective: “Well--…”

Me: “… hell, it stands to reason that the bullying is WHY you became cops, but that is a conversation for your therapists.”

Detective: “We’re looking for a Moe Phillips.”

Me: “Wrong address.”

Detective: “Well we have it on solid info that--…”

Me: “Got a warrant?”

Detective: “Well, no, we just had some questions.”

Me: “Well I ain’t Moe.  I will reach for my ID in my pocket, please don’t shoot me in front of this camera right here next to my door.”

Detective: “…”

Me: “See?  Not Moe.”

Detective: “Well do you mind if we ask you some questions?”

Me: “Am I being detained?”

Detective: “Well…  no sir.”

Me: “Then yes, I mind.”

Detective: “Just know that with the information we have, we WILL seek a warrant to bring you in for questioning.”

Me: “Well if I am to be inconvenienced to continue answering questions, then you will be to legally compel me to do so.”

Detective: “Thank you for your time”

     I knew better than to think that this particular exchange would end my interaction with law enforcement on this day.  An hour later, they were back and not particularly looking to make best buddies or play with my dogs.

Me: “Welcome back, I take it you have a warrant this time?”

Detective: “No, not yet but--…”

Me: “…  well I’mma head on back in this house.”

Detective: “BUT”

Me: “But what?  What-what…  in the butt.”

Detective: “But, there is one on the way as we speak.  You can either come and talk to us about what you know about this Moe Phillips character on your own volition or we can stuff you in the back of that Taurus and turn your house upside down looking for him when that warrant arrives.”

Me: “So…  Follow y’all over to McGee St.?”

Detective: “Thank you for your cooperation.”

[Phlip Note: FUCK!!!]

     It seems they got me by the short-and-curlies here, I had better make this little 2mi jaunt over to the station and try to explain this off in a manner that keeps me from meeting the since-released Booty Warrior’s successor.

     Upon arrival, I was not booked in or fingerprinted or anything, I was only there to answer questions and would have the option of stopping and requesting a lawyer at any moment.

I sincerely hoped it would be an easily-moved thing.  No more Jimothy and Greaseback.  Now I am in an open room across a table with a stack of papers an inch high from the comparatively reaonsbly-named officer Woodcock.

Me: “Okay, I’m here now.  Whaddya need?”

Detective: “We’ve been receiving complaints here at the station from the community about a Moe Phillips and various escapades.”

Me: “And this matters to me, because…”

Detective: “Well…  It matters to you because this apparent Moe Phillips crime wave seems to follow you and your physical location.”

Me: “Nope, nah-uh…  You not about to railroad me into the system.  I have managed to remain un-arrested for 44 years and don’t intend to break that streak.”

Detective: “The evidence is…  Compelling.”

Me: “Compelling to what?”

Detective: “Compelling to explain or answer for.”

Me: “Let’s hear it then.”

Detective: “Well, the complaints began coming in with an apparent ‘Credit Repair’ scheme, wherein people were tricked into paying for a service and then ghosted.”

Me: “Mmhm…”

Detective: “Well then there was a minor tale of some guy selling clairvoyant services to bereaved families and bilking them for large sums.”

Me: “I’m broke, homie.”

Detective: “Then there was the fake healthcare racket.”

Me: “HA!  Healthcare is already fake AND a racket!  What, they didn’t want competition?”

Detective: “Noted…  Then there was a guy who came in with a VERY embarrassing story.  Says he paid some service to bring an escort to him and got robbed for his trouble.  The guy we brought up on this says he was put up to it by a Moe Phillips.”

Me: “Sounds like you got two criminals there, one for pandering and soliciting.  Got what he deserved.”

Detective: “Okay, so nevermind that one.”

Me: “Heh…”

Detective: “In one especially sinister one, some people in Old Irving Park – multiple families – complained of a Moe Phillips selling them ‘Boy Scout Cookies’.”

Me: “HA!!!”

Detective: “Well…  Frankly, that one is kind of funny.”

Me: “Right?”

Detective: “Well the issue at hand is that this veritable crime wave seems to follow you about the city.”

Me: “Sir, I have my doubts about your intel.”

Detective: “Well enlighten me?”

Me: “I have lived in the -06 ZIP code in Greensboro for most of my life, most especially and uninterruptedly so for the past 13 and a half years.”

Detective: “Yes, but--…”

Me: “But what?”

Detective: “This apparent Moe Phillips person uses a burner phone.”

Me: “As most criminals should, no?”

Detective: “And the towers that burner phone ping off of are always consistent with where YOU live.”

Me: “So?  This city has three hundred thousand people and the combined statistical area has over a million and a half.  Redlining has packed all the people y'll like to treat like criminals on the south and east sides of downtown.”

Detective: “And you happen to fit the description provided by--…”

Me: “ALL black people ‘fit the description’ to the police.”

Detective: “…”

Me: “So try harder.”

Detective: “There is either a highly unlikely series of coincidences at play here, or a HIGHLY sophisticated criminal enterprise.”

Me: “’fuck I look like?  Raymond Reddington?”

Detective: “Huh?”

Me: “Nevermind…”

Detective: “There was a break in the complaints for a month in 2021 and no confirmable activity on the burner phone, then it picked right back up RIGHT as the name deeded to your current house changed to yours.”

Me: “’Criminal enterprise’ you say?”

Detective: “Something close to it.”

Me: “Y’all have my financials.  I made the down payment on my house with profits from the old one.”

Detective: “Fair…”

Me: “And no one has any fingerprints matching mine anywhere, or perhaps any immediately arrestable suspicion of my involvement, otherwise I’d be across the street and relieved of my shoestrings.”

Detective: “Well, there’s---…”

Me: “… there’s what?”

Detective: “We’ve traced the purchase of that burner phone to the convenience store that sold it and found the then-kid/now-19-year-old who purchased it.”

Me: “So you found Moe Phillips…  Congratufuckinlations I guess.”

Detective: “No…  He said that some black guy in a Subaru put him up to buying it for him.”

Me: “And do you know how many cars Subaru sells EVERY day?”

Detective: “Actually, we do…  In the city of Greensboro, there are only twelve of those registered to Black people.  Seven of those are men, three of those registered to your ownershp and two of THOSE were confirmed to have been parted and destroyed at wrecking yards in 2018 and 19, respectively.  When we parse the remaining three cars out by ZIP code, we’re left with--…”

Me: “Holy fuck.  My Outback.”

Detective: “Ready to talk?”

Me: “I feel like I need a lawyer.”

Detective: “And that is your right, but we will have to arrest you.”

Me: “Damn that…  What’s the offer here?”

Detective: “Depends on what your involvement is.”

     I started crying…

Detective: “Oh, so the funny man has gotten scared?”

Me: “It’s not that, detective Woodpenis.”

Detective: “Woodcock.”

Me: “Same thing”

Detective: “If it isn’t, then what IS it?”

Me: “The Conglomerate.”

Detective: “The what?”

Me: “I’ve been in questionable health since like 2015, with my blood pressure, my heart and kidneys…  Somehow they KNEW that and--…”

Detective: “’They’ who?”

Me: “I don’t KNOW!  I just know that one day after my 2018 hospitalization I was getting phonecalls telling me that my bills had been handled while I was on leave from work.”

Detective: “From who?”

Me: “I don’t know!  I asked and they said ‘don’t worry about it.’”

Detective: “Well if you give us a number, we might be able to--…”

Me: “They always called me!  From an unknown number.  I tried to ignore the calls as one does unknowns, but it kept ringing.”

Detective: “But you--…”

Me: “They had a script.  They told me what to do and say.  They told me how to handle getting the burner and even paid for it!”

Detective: “But all the money.”

Me: “I was in their debt after that summer, I have kept NONE of it.  They made sure to have it moved about in cash or in less-than-easily-traced methods.”

Detective: “There still remains the fact that YOU broke laws.”

Me: “I’m a victim, Detective Woodpenis, a VICTIM!!!”

Detective: “Hmmph…”

Me: “Look at me…  I work every day and pay bills, I don’t live lavish or have anything to show for your supposed crime wave.  I am being used and now being made a patsy.”

Detective: “Well, Mr. Patsy, one is still beholden to the laws in situations like this.”

Me: “Look…  Tap the burner if you want.  Station a new agent in the trees behind my neighbor’s house.  The old one is kinda weird anyway.”

Detective: “What?”

Me: “Nothing…  Never mind.  Just do whatever you can, be in position to act whenever they contact me to do their bidding again.  As I am apparently in their debt in perpetuity, they WILL be calling.”

Detective: “Well--…”

Me: “Can I go now?  Am I under arrest?”

Detective: “Well I guess you aren’t, we still don’t have enough to arrest you.”

Me: “Good”

Detective: “But we WILL take you up on your offer.  Assume you’re being watched at all times.  That means you need to be on your best behavior even at a crosswalk, as well as not downloading music illegally.”

Me: “Can that last one be negotiated?”

Detective: “No”

Me: “Shit.”

Detective: “Now get out of here before you admit to something we can arrest you for.”

Me: “Y’ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

     And with that, I grabbed up my shit and got the hell out of there.

     It comes to obviousness that I was lying my ass off…  There is no “conglomerate,” but I managed to keep “Moe” just obscure enough to keep Phillip’s ass out of the frying pan.
The current problem, though, is that I have played Icarus with this thing for far too long and now need to commit more heavily to the Moe Phillips Rehabilitation effort.

     First thing I did was randomly hand the burner phone to an unhoused person walking downtown.  That would surely see the remaining minutes used up and the phone discarded somewhere far away from my house.
  I’m just glad that detective Hickory Dick didn’t mention cicadas.  Even still, I know I haven’t heard the last of this.  When they come knocking again, you two will be the first to know.

 

Police interactions:

☆☆☆
- Fucking Bullshit, Would Not Recommend



(eventually)

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