​Inspector wins hearts and minds with pre-detail speech

MANHATTAN – As hundreds of members of the service gathered around a muster location, which was scribbled on the notification slip many had tried in vain to avoid, Departmental preparations for the Annual Eastern European Southern Regional Ancestors Heritage Parade were just getting underway.

Police Officer Marnski, who has a dismal detail avoidance rate of 20%, the worst at his command, provided The Hairbag with his account of what was taking place.

“You know, it was the usual mess. Captains were running around the THV holding folders of meaningless papers, acting as if the sun would fall out of the sky if they weren’t there.

Then the lieutenants gathered around talking to each other, telling sob stories of having to give meal relief to desk officers and patrol supervisors, while the sergeants were just happy they didn’t have to line up in rows of five,” said Marnski.

Reporters from The Hairbag arrived just as the THV doors opened up. What happened next can only be described as biblical, said Police Officer Kulnarsson.

“It was like Moses parting the seas. We were all talking, bullshitting about our most recent denied 28, when some adminion from the borough screamed ‘fall in!’ at the top of his lungs, attempting to appear as if he actually had any authority on other cops.”

As the doors opened, the silhouette of a portly fellow donning a white shirt became visible. From his marginally shined shoes to his tight fitting summer cap that perhaps may have been one size too small, Inspector Mourinho walked down those 3 foldable steps. Immediately, he caught his breath as if he’d just been forced to perform the JST with a duty belt on.

Silence befell the deep rows of 5, who were mentally preparing themselves to hear the same nonsense they hear at every detail. PO Marnski looked over to our reporters, nodding as if to indicate that we should pay particular attention.

Just then, Mourinho bellowed, “tighten this up!”, as a rogue piece of chicken parm from his earlier lunch flew out of his mouth, narrowly avoided the first row.

“This is the New York City Police Department, act like it!”, Mourinho proclaimed. Just then, something appeared to simply click among the largely unmotivated group of officers.

Our reporters witnessed their eyes open wide, as they went from half-assed parade rest to full attention. They were hanging on the inspectors every word, even the pauses.

“I know you guys think you’re here just for a day off patrol. Well, I’m here to tell you you’ll be working twice as hard for half as much recognition,” Mourinho shouted.

The cops were hooked, looking at the Inspector as if they had just spotted their teenage celebrity crush. Meanwhile, a nearby captain furred his brow and nodded after every sentence, shuffling the blank papers in his folder.

Mourinho continued his battle cry. “I don’t care how much T on the J you got, or where you work. I want your traffic vests on and those memo books filled out and the pages crisp. I will be inspecting them, understood?!”

The cops immediately took out their books, ironing out every creased page on the backs of their fellow officers. The odd thing, our reporter said, was that they genuinely seemed to enjoy it.

As Mourinho huffed and puffed, the cops only got more motivated. “And another thing! Meal is a privilege. No travel time. And I don’t want to see you drinking coffee in uniform,” he howled before sipping his burnt borough-brewed decaf, spilling a drop on his already yellowed white shirt.

Another officer, PO Solderman, was beaming with pride. “Wow. That man can speak. He really brought my partner and I closer together. When we got here, we were going to do ‘1-in-1-out’ or ‘2-in-1-awake’ at best. But now? Definitely ‘2-out’.

Another officer we spoke with echoed the sentiment. “I've never wanted to stand needlessly on a corner and be treated like a kindergartner this much before. It reminds me of why I took this job in the first place, to be emasculated and spoken to with condescension. I'm pretty stoked,” proclaimed the anonymous officer, who did not divulge his name for fear of being labeled a company man by his delegate.

As the speech winded down, the litany of officers were visibly ready for anything, prepared to follow the good Inspector Mourinho to the gates of hell. He then took a deep breath, providing much needed relief to his middle button, before giving one last command. “Fall [long pause] out!”, he screamed.

As the officers scrambled to their posts in perfect formation, they chanted the famous hymn, “The Job Loves Us,” in synchronized fashion. Regardless of how the day went, they knew they’d be prepared for anything after the rousing display of leadership they had just bore witness to.

Mourinho performed a perfect about-face, taking a breath as he prepared himself for the same three steps that proved so difficult only minutes before. He entered the THV, sat down on a chair that had just been scrubbed clean by his loyal adminion, and glanced at our reporter. “Leadership,” he said. “Some have it, some don’t.”

Inspector Mourinho was not seen again until the next day, though sources told us he did issue multiple CD’s in absentia.