by HAL MOUNTSAUERKRAUTEN, Alternate Reality News Service Crime Writer
A confluence (or, is that a gaggle? Or possibly a Philbert...) of factors in recent years has caused the crime rate to plummet faster than a coyote falling off a cliff.
As the incarceration rate slowly crept towards 50 per cent of the citizens of the United States of Vesampucceri, businesses started to find that they were running short of workers. "It's a sad day," Chamber of Commerce CFO (Chief Fatcat Officer) Yolanda Feramghetini commented, "when there aren't enough qualified asskissers to fill middle management because they've had their own asses carted off to jail for toaster fraud!"
This was compounded by the widespread dissemination of ubiquitous computing, which made evading the law much more difficult. If you tried to obtain a dress from a MultiMaxiMegaMart using a four finger discount, for instance, it started shrieking the moment you stepped out of the store. You could no longer drag somebody off the street for a good mugging because the alleyway might testify at your trial. If you tried to cook your corporate books, a message was immediately sent to the Federal Department of Milk (which, inexplicably, had been the most effective government department for over a decade).
Finally, poor people had given up the pursuit of a better life in despair and started enjoying eating dirt.
You might have thought that this drastic drop in the crime rate would be a good thing, but, in fact, it was a disaster for politicians; decades of "tough on crime" rhetoric had left them vulnerable if they weren't seen to treat criminals harshly. Not only were reputations on the line, but the judicial-industrial-media-storekeeping-accounting-frottagers complex put pressure on Washburningdington to save the prison system from collapse.
Successive governments took two approaches to solving the crime problem: increase sentences for the smaller and smaller infractions that continued to occur, and; insist that local safety required that these criminals be housed in only the most secure facilities.
"You might believe that putting people who don't signal left turns at deserted intersections at three in the morning into high security prisons for decades is an incredible waste of resources," stated token smart person Amy Sheshutshotshitbam. "Of course, you would be right. But, since everybody knows that the country is essentially bankrupt, it's hard to get anybody to care."
Meet Harunder J. Mithrajmajumder. Not literally face to face, obviously, if you have never heard of him before. Although, if you knew him before he became Public Enemy Number Pi, you probably met him face to face, In fact, if you are Matilda, Mithrajmajumder's wife of 20 years, or either of his children, Steve-O or Annie, you probably met him under a variety of circumstances too numerous to count. You know what? This was a godawful bad segue. Forget it and meet me in the next paragraph.
Given these circumstances, Harunder J. Mithrajmajumder became Public Enemy Number Pi when he wilfully and with malice of forethought dropped the wrapper of a Captain Crunch Energy Bar on the sidewalk. The street reported the crime to the local authorities; the police who arrived on the scene mere seconds later found 17 people beating Mithrajmajumder in the act of making a citizen's arrest and 20 others willing to kick him just in case. That's right, Mithrajmajumder was guilty of the most heinous of crimes: he was a litterbug.
"He came quietly," said Police Chief Wigdellaroochie "I'll give him that. But, given the 27 video cameras, the sidewalk, the street and the front walls of the buildings - not to mention the human witnesses - the bastard knew we had him dead to rights."
Mithrajmajumder was sentenced to 17 years to life in his own prison. He was supposed to share the prison with convicted serial jaywalker Martin Kembalzimberlax, but the ACLU complained that such overcrowding amounted to cruel and unusual punishment, so a separate prison had to be built just for him.
The Alternate Reality News Service was given an exclusive opportunity to interview Mithrajmajumder. I was led through corridors in the prison with increasingly Byzantine security measures (I thought taking an imprint of my upper teeth was a bit much). Finally, six hours after I had arrived, I was led into a small, windowless room in which the master criminal sat. He was heavily shackled and wore a mask. You know the type.
Mithrajmajumder and I sat across the table from each other, two worthy adversaries about to engage in verbal combat. I watched in horror as he raised his hand. What nefarious activity was this master criminal about to initiate? My body tensed as I calculated the distance to the door of the cell and wondered if a jailer would be able to respond to my screams before Mithrajmajumder could carry out his evil designs.
He scratched his nose.
Realizing that I was overmatched, I fled the room. A normal person can be in the presence of pure evil for only so long.