It was precisely 6:20 AM when officer Jessica Krupnik entered the station, turning down the folds of her overcoat and brushing the rainwater off her shoulders. Her hat was perched on her head over her hair tied back taut in an unmoving bun, and her eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the dimness of the Lower Toon Town station in the low morning. Removing her sunglasses, she exhaled and undid the tie on her coat.
This was it; this was the new assignment. One hell of a step down from the Los Angeles crimes division, and one hell of a move away from her usual assignments-- Homicides, theft, embezzlement… Well, it'd all been clerical work the past two months, but that was for another reason entirely. After they'd found out she--
Well. That wasn't important. Jessica Krupnik was back on the force and ready to start again, ready to track down whatever law-breakers and ruthless bastards dare interrupt the sanctity of harmony and peace within her jurisdiction. She missed the dim street lamps and chases down long alleyways, the sneer of a man caught, the whisper of terror in his eyes when he realized there was no way to prove innocence. She missed helping people, she missed making things right in a world full of wrong--
There was, however, one problem:
Those sort of things don't happen in Toon Town.
Her department had told her just as much with a sneer when they'd shoved her box of personal items at her from her desk and told her to hit the road. Maybe she'd be better off as a secretary, they'd said, or-- Well. That last suggestion didn't bear consideration. It hadn't born much speaking either, given that she'd socked the bastard who said so in the jaw so hard he couldn't speak after. Served him right.
So, here she was, the only department that'd take her recommendations and her skills, and she was forced to work with Toons of all things. A real kick in the craw, that part. Only the lowest and the worst, the most incompetent got moved from the Human crime devision to the Toon, even in Toon Town itself. It was a blow to the ego just as much as it was to her wallet.
Officer Krupnik fought the urge to scream at the sight before her, and instead shut her eyes and exhaled, counting to three steadily in her head.
Right. Time to get…Settled.
Setting her jaw hard, Jessica placed her coat and hat on the rack by the door and stepped in, bracing her hands on her hips and her thumbs tucked through the belt loops.
If she was honest, the place was a dump, a complete disaster of disorganization and chaos. File cabinets leaned, storing-- Actually honest-to-god SNORING! -- against walls or bucketed forward by paper jammed every which way into different drawers and folders. Desks were not so much arranged as they were bolted to the ground-- Standard caution procedure in Toon Town. Anvil-proof nets and and quote catchers hung on the ceiling of every desk, ready to snatch an errant thought or speech bubble and press it down, while ink blotters and pens and pencils were stored in a locked cabinet at the back marked "EMERGENCY", next to a rusty looking first aid kit was was willing to be was nabbed from an Army Surplus mart right after the war. The first aid kit looked so dated and old, she wondered if the bandages would start to talk back like the majority of the furniture--
Ugh. She hoped not. It was one thing getting used to having eyes on you alone as a female officer, but the eyes of Toon Town were different, constant, always talking or remarking and never letting up off of you. It made the hair on the back of her neck crawl and her fists turn into pale, shaking balls of fury--
Gotta get over it, Jessica. That's how things are here.
God, she missed working with humans-- People on her own damn level, her own intellect. When they covered a crime it wasn't because it was funny or because or an errant pie, but because of real motives, real reasons, real alibis. Sure, they weren't always good ones-- They were from criminals, after all-- but they were real. None of this Little Nemo in Slumberland bull with dreamscapes and half-baked excuses.
Clearing her throat, she scanned the half-empty station. She hadn't walked the pens yet, but so far she hadn't seen anyone up front. Perhaps it was the hour or the way things were around here, but she expected to have found someone-- well, some Toon by now.
"Hello? Officer Krupnik here--"
The only sound in response was the lazy turning of a fan above the office. Her teeth grit, and she tried not to vocalize her annoyance too much,
"I'm supposed to check in with the Chief. Are there any officers present?"
Some station, some town. Eyeing the empty desks with disdain, Jessica made her way past the rows and towards the front of the office where they received prisoners and people looking for help. The pens were on the left, down a hall, and she could hear the faint rattle of Toons protesting their incarceration. Her face twisted into a scowl-- All the noises were strange. Hammers and horns and yelps and yodels, nothing like the places she knew full of desperation and people pleading innocence. Just another way this place was strange.
Keep it together. It's just a couple of months to build rapport, then we can sign up for the Army-- They're in need of.. Someone, I'm sure. Just a couple of months and we can get out. Only a couple of months dealing with Toons.
To her right, she passed the call center room, filled with a row of switchboards and headphones. A handful of women sat cross-legged at stools, switching around keys and glancing her way with surprise. SHe ignored them and pressed on-- She wasn't there to make friends with the secretaries or the call takers. She was there to work.
The sound of surprised murmuring and titters made the back of her neck flush, but she pushed through the double doors and---
Ah. The front. A clean desk waited, which was a small surprise. Three separate police radios sat up beside an intercom and a swivel chair. The chairs occupying spaces for people needing help were visible behind the cross-hatched glass protecting the officers from custard or whatever it was Toons assaulted with, and there, finally, Jessica thought she may have found someone. Relief sagged her shoulders, but she squared up quickly again and cleared her throat over the hum of static, and a voice reported a four buggy pile up by Johnson Farm road. All fireflies, it sounded like, so the pile was ablaze-- Could they send an officer to handle the tangled antennae? She tried not to grimace, but spoke:
"Excuse me. Officer Krupnik here-- Do you know where I might report to the Chief? I'm-- New."
