Officer Johnson

by Jefferson Navicky

     Inspired by Harper’s Magazine, March 2013

On the night of 23 March, I was summoned to 9 Berkeley Place, the home of Mr. Justin Bieber, to resolve a disorderly conduct. I arrived at 9:43 to find Mr. Chambers (41) shirtless in the front lawn. The house spotlights illuminated him. He was wet with sweat. I asked Mr. Chambers what he was doing. He replied he was, “Givin’ it back to that little piece of shit!” I asked him to calm down, to which he replied, “I’m gonna cut his balls off.” I asked Mr. Chambers to specify and he replied, “Justin Bieber’s balls!” At this point I radioed for back up and tried to convince Mr. Chambers to settle down and come with me. Instead he dropped to his knees and screamed, “Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaker!” at the house. I asked Mr. Chambers who was a faker. “Bieber,” he replied. “I had Bieber fever first!” At this point he began to cry. I asked Mr. Chambers to tell me about it. “I got the tattoo first,” he sobbed. Through the rest of the blubbering, I ascertained that Mr. Chambers, in support of Mr. Bieber’s recent album “Believe,” tattooed Mr. Bieber’s name across his upper arm. However, Mr. Chambers soon discovered that Mr. Bieber had tattooed “Believe” on his own upper arm. Mr. Chambers, in response to this information, declared, “You know what, you little turd bait, it was my idea first.” In an effort to sympathize with Mr. Chambers, I said, “that sounds tough.” “It’s so hard,” Mr. Chambers said, “when people copy me!” At this point, he began to hug me, sobbing harder. “You know what, Mr. Chambers,” I said, “you’re better than this.” He wailed. “You’re better than Justin Bieber, Mr. Chambers. You’re a good man.” “No!” he cried, “I want to cut his balls off!” “I don’t think you do, Mr. Chambers.” I proceeded to tell Mr. Chambers about the time when I got my ex–wife’s name — she was my fiance at the time I did it — tattooed across my very low back. Mr. Chambers interrupted to ask, “so you got her name tattooed across your ass?” Basically. He stopped crying. “And look at me now, Mr. Chambers, I’m a well–adjusted officer of the law, and that tattoo? I’m over it now and you know what? I’m ready to get a new name tattooed on my ass. And you know what name I’m gonna get tattooed on my ass? Justin Bieber, Justin Fuckin’ Bieber, that’s who. And you know why? In your honor, Mr. Chambers, you’ve inspired me. I’m gonna do it because of you.” Mr. Chambers looked at me. “I’m gonna cut your balls off,” he screamed. At that point, I arrested him.