Choir boys

Satiricus was confused. Now this was not an unusual circumstance for Satiricus. But this time, he just couldn’t make head or hair of what was going on. Or going down. He’d just turned on his television and there was this young man, who said the policemen had tortured him to make a confession. Now Satiricus had learnt not to jump to conclusions in these matters.
But then as he looked at the long-haired young man in immaculate white shirt and pants, it seemed to Satiricus like a case of déjà vu all over again. The police were up to their old tricks harassing choir boys. For the life of him, Satiricus couldn’t figure out this mystery. What did the police have against choir boys?
Satiricus remembered when there was all that trouble on the East Coast Demerara. Every day the police would be hauling in choir boys just because police were being killed like flies. And like the case on TV right now, it didn’t matter what all the friends and relatives and neighbours of the young man said about how angelic the young men were…the police were unmoved.
There was the matter that the choir boys almost always had police records…armed robbery, attempted murder, murder. You name the crime and these boys had the charge.
Their rap sheets were each pages long. Some of them even did the time. But after listening to the character witnesses who were trotted out, it was obvious that the police had fobbed off the charges on the choir boys and worked with their friends in the judicial system to put them away. Their parents and brothers and sisters and friends wouldn’t lie, would they? These poor choir boys had been framed…every one of them.
And the police just wouldn’t let up. Only last year, Satiricus remembered that there were these nice choir boys just singing hymns by the street corner in their village of AgriKola. Out of the blue, these big, burly police swooped down on them like the destruction of Sennacherib.
As one of the choir boys told the story, in biblical allusion:
“The police came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in black and gold;
And the sheen of their guns was like stars on the sea,
When the brown wave rolls nightly on deep Kitty.”
Again Satiricus asked himself, “What was it about the choir boys” that seemed to drive the police over the edge. As he mulled over the conundrum, the answer suddenly dawned on Satiricus. These choir boys represented all that the police were not and could never be. They were sweet and gentle; they helped old ladies across the street; they contributed to blood drives. And they sang hymns on street corners. After all, their relatives always said so.
The police were just jealous of these choir boys, that’s what it was. Flat out jealous. After all what did THEY do? Just go out, day in and day out to fight crime.