"They are just there, in the open. No fence, no net, just a basketball pitch full of negroes".
The officer wasn't alone, he and his colleague have stopped at the deck to eat their McDonald dinner inside the car, but he didn't care. He knew they both had the same thinking; they had never argued about his comments before. "You are a fine beaner, Vasquez". And they kept eating.
When they both finished he said "let's go and play a visit", started the engine, and drove off to the basketball pitch.
The ball had bounced off the court and he parked the car above it. He saw the young man that ran after it stopping a few meters away. "Is there any problem boy?". The young man shook his head. "Are you sure?". No answer. "Why did you come towards the car, boy?". The rest of the friends were waiting in the court, watching silently. "Speak boy!". "Excuse me, officer, I just wanted...". "What?! Speak louder boy! What's your problem?". The young man asked for the ball and waited with fear. The officer bent down to look under the car. He stood up. "Well, let's see if we can grab it". He took his gun out, got a few steps closer to the young man, stopped, turned around and bent over again. He fired one shot. "What the hell man?! You could have blown up the car! With me inside!". "Calm down Vasquez, I've got it under control. See, boy? Problem solved". Vasquez was walking towards them but the officer wasn't listening to his shouting. "Shut the fuck up Vasquez! Boy, don't you have to say anything?". The young man was paralyzed. The officer grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him down on his knees. Vasquez was still shouting. "You better say 'thank you, sir' or I'll blow your head off, boy". Click. "You better let him go or I will blow your head off, old man". The officer doubted for a second but unlocked the gun again instead. Just before he could shoot, Vasquez did it for him.
Vasquez was looking into the abyss, eyes fixated on the cable of the computer screen, for the thousand time that week. Whishing he would have done that shot rather than staying in the car. It's been three months since he joined the police department and ten days since he got tempted. He tried to make a formal complaint of his partner for abuse of power after he almost beat to death that man, but it didn't work. Now he is stuck behind a desk trying to answer one only question: whom do you call when the police kill?