Chapter 156: Crime Scene Situation Comedy
"Pete and Repeat were sitting on a fence. Pete fell off. Who was left?"
"Repeat."
One was an emotionless repeating machine, the other a robot yearning for freedom. They continued their back-and-forth, forcing this simple riddle dialogue through its 187th iteration.
Little Leonard watched from the side. If he hadn't been covering his mouth, he would have burst out laughing long ago. Even so, he had to turn his face away, avoiding the tearful Sheldon who looked at him pleadingly.
The once arrogant Little Sheldon was now reduced to a pitiful puppy, staring at him with tears in his eyes. If he hadn't known about Little Sheldon's true nature, and if Chuck hadn't been conducting this treatment, he would have likely helped him out.
"Pete and Repeat were sitting on a fence. Pete fell off. Who was left?"
"Repeat, why are you being so mean to me?"
The 188th repetition, exceeding Little Sheldon's breaking point, made Little Sheldon cry out, unable to contain himself any longer.
"I'm just helping you discover your hidden talent."
Chuck ended his psychological treatment. He could repeat this conversation all day without feeling any pressure, but it was clear that Little Sheldon had reached his limit. Now that he had surrendered, the lesson was over.
If he continued, it would be like deliberately bullying a child.
"What talent?"
Little Sheldon questioned through his tears.
"Flexible boundaries,"
Chuck said bluntly. "You always expect others to conform to your demands. Do you notice that line in your mind has become more flexible and adaptable?"
"..."
Little Sheldon was speechless and hung up the phone, crying.
This flexible boundary was a secret he had vaguely understood: he would push his demands to the limits of others' tolerance to maximize his own convenience. Now, Chuck had revealed that this boundary was actually flexible and adjustable. If everyone knew this, how could he continue to apply extreme pressure and force others to compromise for him? Life would be unbearable.
The next day,
Chuck received a call from Detective Amy Santiago. There was another case.
"Hey, Chuck."
When he arrived, Chandler was already standing there talking to Jake Peralta and the others. Seeing Chuck approach, he smiled and said, "I'm here again."
"As long as you enjoy it,"
Chuck nodded.
"I love it so much,"
Chandler quipped. "It's much better than working at the office, where you get criticized for bad work and praised for good work by your boss. You have to tell your boss not to do that, and then they develop Stockholm syndrome and ask you to let them give you a good spanking."
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took out a cigarette, and lit it with a smile. "And finally, I don't have to quit smoking anymore. I can smoke all I want. I don't have to hide the cigarette in my drawer after taking a puff, sneak puffs, and use a little desk fan to cover up the smoke like in the office."
"No smoking,"
Chuck said bluntly.
"...okay."
Chandler met Chuck's gaze, his mouth twitched, and he tactfully put out the cigarette, saying self-deprecatingly: "It seems there's only one advantage - no boss will give my butt a good spanking."
"But your friends will slap your face."
Jake Peralta immediately grinned: "Which is more thrilling?"
"Chandler, is this really okay for you?"
Detective Amy Santiago was worried about her gay best friend: "What about your job?"
"Well."
Chandler waved his hand and said self-deprecatingly: "My job is nothing compared to my current hobby. I've been doing it for so long, and none of my good friends can even tell you what I do for work. I only followed Chuck to one crime scene, and my good friends all know that I'm a detective consultant. What else is there to say?"
"But who will pay for your hobby?"
Detective Amy Santiago was still worried about her gay best friend: "It's just a hobby after all."
"Me."
Chuck stated simply.
"You?"
Detective Amy Santiago was stunned. "Are you willing to formally offer Chandler a job as a detective consultant?"
"Any problem with that?"
Chuck asked.
"No problem, no problem... Just, why?"
Detective Amy Santiago waved her hand, but in the end, she couldn't help but ask the question that was nagging at her.
"I know!"
"I know!"
Chandler and Jake Peralta exclaimed in unison, then looked at each other and reached out to cover the other's mouth, trying to silence them so they could speak first.
"Oh my God,"
Detective Amy Santiago sighed at the sight.
She did like having a gay best friend like Chandler, but if this gay best friend fell under Jake Peralta's influence and became Jake's partner in crime, and then the number of Jake Peraltas doubled, that would be a real headache.
"I know!"
Jake Peralta, having dealt with criminals frequently, had mastered restraint techniques. He simply controlled Chandler with a swift move, twisted Chandler around, and positioned Chandler in front of Chuck. He suppressed a grin and said, "Come on, Boss!"
"..."
Detective Amy Santiago's eye twitched.
"Don't be shy, I know you're into it."
Jake Peralta said jokingly, "Didn't you hear Chandler talk about his boss's preferences? I know you bosses are all the same. Punishment is face-slapping, praise is butt-spanking. Anyway, we're all shameless employees. Everyone line up, come on! Spanking time!"
"Enough!"
Detective Amy Santiago couldn't stand it anymore and rescued her gay bestie: "Chandler, don't be mad, he's just like that."
"Why would I be mad?"
Chandler said self-deprecatingly: "What Jake said is the truth. If I didn't know the real reason, I would have stuck my butt out to Chuck long ago."
"Hahaha."
Jake Peralta laughed: "Dude, I knew we were meant to be. You should apply to the police academy right away. No, I'll sign you up myself. We'll definitely be the best comedy duo."
"..."
Detective Amy Santiago got a headache and complained helplessly: "So this isn't the reason you wanted to say earlier?"
"Of course not,"
Chandler grinned. "Did you see me sticking my butt out? There's only one reason Chuck offered me a job as a detective consultant!"
He jumped behind Chuck, his form blocked by Chuck's towering figure. He then leaned over to look at Detective Amy Santiago. "Amy, repeat your question."
"..."
Detective Amy Santiago was exasperated, but she still said, "Why?"
"I'm rich!"
Chandler hid behind Chuck, straining his voice to imitate Chuck's deep tone, and delivered the famous line that had previously left him speechless.
"...Well, money really can solve everything."
Jake Peralta was stunned, then laughed, "You win! That joke is way better than mine! You're the funniest!"
"See?"
Chandler reappeared, grinning. "I told you I knew why!"
"How much are you paying him?"
Detective Amy Santiago looked at Chuck curiously.
"Five thousand dollars a month,"
Chuck announced, meeting everyone's gaze.
"Pfft!"
Jake Peralta snorted, his whole body relaxing. He grumbled, "I thought rich people had unlimited budgets, but this is all you're offering."
"That's more than we make,"
Detective Amy Santiago scoffed. "How much do you make?"
"...I don't, but it was close," Jake Peralta said stubbornly. "But that's rich guy money. Our expectations are different."
"I'm grateful you offered me the job, but I think I'm going to turn it down."
Chandler dropped his joking expression and said to Chuck more seriously, "First, we're friends, and I don't want to become boss and employee. That would ruin things. Second, I've been working at my company for years and I'm about to get a promotion and a raise. It's hard to give that up suddenly... You know, I've got Stockholm syndrome with my job."
He then began laughing at himself again.
"Who said anything about giving up your old job?"
Chuck asked.
"Uh."
Chandler was stunned: "Didn't you say you'd offer me a job as a detective consultant?"
"That's part-time work."
Chuck said calmly: "In addition to your regular job, you can come whenever you want, work as a detective consultant, and balance your main job with this side gig. When you really understand what you want, then consider whether to quit your main job and make this your career."
"Holy shit!"
Jake Peralta was stunned: "So your monthly salary of $5,000 is for working maybe 8 days a month at most? You can come when you want and skip when you don't?"
Chuck looked at him and said slowly in a low voice: "I'm rich."
"..."
Jake Peralta's mouth twitched, then he turned around, stuck out his butt, twisted his head back, pointed at his face with one hand and his buttocks with the other, and said with a forced smile: "Boss, what do you think of me?"
Not far away, the patrol officers responsible for maintaining the crime scene perimeter were stunned. A rookie patrolman couldn't help asking: "Is this a crime scene or a sitcom?"
"Of course it's a sitcom."
The veteran patrolman said seriously, "Sometimes we get hired for TV shows, so we're invited to be extras. We get paid, which counts as overtime."
"Really?"
The rookie patrolman looked at the female corpse not far away in confusion, and murmured, "But this prop looks way too real."
"The prop department can afford steak dinners tonight."
The veteran patrolman nodded.
The rookie patrolman was fresh out of the academy and hadn't dared to look at the bloody corpse before. Now, after hearing his senior say this was a sitcom, he temporarily suppressed his fear and moved closer to see how this prop looked so realistic.
Then.
The rookie patrolman started vomiting.
(End of Chapter)
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