In One Ear By Miles O'Rourke

“Now, who wants to see one of my favorite tricks?”

Uproarious cheers erupted from the crowd of smiling children as Rodolpho the Revered pranced around the stage of a semi-empty shipping depot in Kalui Pier; He was in a cheap, tiny cape, waving his marker-sized “magic” wand. The wide-eyed kids had no idea what they were truly in for. Rodolpho bounded over to little Billy, the birthday boy.

“Do you want to see something amazing?” said Rodolpho in his most boisterous manner.

“Yeth, Mithter Rodoltho,” stuttered Billy, “I want to thee thomething amo-amee-amer-ama—”


“Yeah! Amathing!”

“Okay then, I think there’s something in your ear.”

“WHAT! No way! Dat’th impothibble!” cried Billy with all the disbelief his little four-year-old mind could muster. “How could anything hide in my tiny widdle ear-hole?”

Rodolpho shouted into the audience to rile them back up. “You don’t believe me, huh? Well, it’s all possible with help of some of my magic words. Now, I need all of you to say them with me — Da mihi pecuniam fatue! Ready, kids? Chant it!”

The chant started out as a murmur, then a whisper, then a shout, and then was screeched across the room in a matter of seconds. Finally, Rodolpho withdrew the object from Billy’s ear: a coin. A solid, metal, valued quarter straight from someone’s pocket. The children looked at Rodolpho inquisitively, and their parents were even more perplexed.

Suddenly, in pure shock, Billy’s mother reached for her phone and hurriedly called the police.

“911, what’s your, like, emergency?” said the disinterested operator.

“Th-th-there’s a-a magi-gician who j-just —”

“Speak up, lady! What was it, like, a robbery or something, because we get those every day. Unless it’s something of interest like a —”

“A magician just pulled a quarter out of my son’s ear!” shouted Billy’s mom.

The operator gasped. She immediately hung up the phone. She then grabbed the microphone pinned to her vest and said “To all mobile units, we have a 25C at these coordinates, which I am sending you remotely. A 25C!” While Rodolpho was trying to keep the kids organized, the door burst open.

“Hands in the air, perp!” the policemen said as they gestured to Rodolpho. “Everyone, remain calm!”

As they said this, the gathering of toddlers began to scream and cry as if they just saw a dead body. They all ran to their collective mothers; the police handcuffed Rodolpho and ensured him that whatever he requested would “not be needed” where he was going.

“But, what am I being arrested for?” Rodolpho questioned.

“For putting a coin in someone’s ear.” the cop responded.

“It was just a lame trick!”

“Too bad.”

Rodolpho was put into the car while the two cops took the front seats. The sirens on the car blared and they drove off into the sunset… towards the police station.

The cops pulled up to the HPD building and walked Rodolpho out with them. They entered and heard the chorus of lawmen and women cheering, “Chief’s coming back! Chief’s coming back!”

Rodolpho gulped. He’d heard terrifying tales of the chief.

He was said to be the meanest, toughest, scariest thing to ever walk the Earth. He was ruthless and would never spare a criminal from the power of justice. Suddenly, the door opened, and a four-foot-tall silhouette appeared in the doorway.

“Yay! The chief is here!” cried the officers.

The “man” who walked in and the threatening rumors about him floating around Rodolpho’s mind immediately disappeared. The chief wasn’t some barrel-chested, enormous, and beastly man. In fact he had a single, blonde hair sticking out of his shiny, bald head. His mouth contained only two teeth that were somewhat crooked and looked underdeveloped. What sealed the deal was that he was wearing a pair of sky blue, fuzzy, and fresh-washed “footie” pajamas..

“Wait,” said Rodolpho, “You’re the monstrous chief of police? Aren’t you supposed to be some enormous, muscle-bound, beast-like man who eats criminals for breakfast?”

“I am terrifying, I am the chief, and I do eat criminals for breakfast.” the chief said, in a voice as cold as ice, “Though I am not enormous, muscle-bound, or have any beastly qualities.”

“Well, since you’re clearly a reasonable, um, adult, you must know that it’s silly to have a law that demotes the ability to stick a coin in one’s ear. It’s unnecessary to make that a crime, especially when it was just a crummy trick for a child’s birthday party!”

“Well, too bad. You’re “going to jail”,” said the chief, gesturing with hand quotes, “and nothing will stop that.”

“What’s with the quotes, and what about a trial?”


“What is ‘Oh’ supposed to mean?”

“Well, you see, I eat criminals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Literally.”

“W-what? You’re a cannibal?”


“Then I’m getting out of here!”

Rodolpho sprinted to the exit, but it was too late. The doors had been locked. The officers dragged him to their gold-plated oven for this occasion and shoved him inside.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, Rodolpho.” said the chief, standing menacingly in front of the oven. “This is why we can’t have trials, because then I’ll get hungry. When I’m hungry, I eat. So they don’t do trials, they just feed me the horrible people so that those who deserve to live are spared. You should feel honored, for you will be my “welcome back” meal.”

After the delicious meal of Crook Monsieur (i.e. the cooked corpse of Rodolpho), the chief said he was still hungry and demanded more. He was hungry, and when he was hungry, he ate. Swiftly, he devoured the whole police squadron, but he wanted more. Some say he is still on the loose, looking all over the country for food. He is no longer satisfied with the limit of eating puny criminals. Now, he searches, day and night, for a more suitable meal. Then, and only then, will the chief be satisfied.

Created By
Miles O'Rourke

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