#OngoingAdventure: Call The Police

Summary

A person receives an unsettling letter demanding a McMuffin and debates the urgency of the situation with a 911 operator.

Abstract

The narrative unfolds with a protagonist, an upper-middle-class individual, who has been raised to believe that the police should be called in any unusual situation. After receiving a mysterious letter requesting they deliver a McMuffin, knowing the sender is aware of their home address, they dial 911. The operator, sounding weary yet professional, questions the legitimacy of the emergency. The protagonist, experiencing genuine fear and physical symptoms of anxiety, pleads their case, while the operator seems unconvinced. The story presents a humorous yet tense scenario, leaving the reader with options to influence the direction of the narrative.

Opinions

The protagonist's upbringing has instilled a reflex to involve the police in potentially dangerous situations, regardless of the severity.
There is an underlying humor in the contrast between the protagonist's perception of the situation as an emergency and the 911 operator's skepticism.
The author, Jennifer J. McDougall, uses the interaction to highlight the protagonist's privileged background and their subsequent overreaction to the letter.
The story invites reader participation, offering them the chance to shape the story's progression through provided options.
The 911 operator's response suggests a possible desensitization to genuine emergencies, which could be a commentary on the frequency of non-urgent calls to emergency services.

Collaborative fiction writing fun thanks to Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她)

Your parents had always assured you, an upper-middle-class white person, that calling the police was the best option. Being offered candy by some weirdly mustached dude in a van? Call 911. Followed into a back alley by a balaclava-clad gangsta? Order Siri to alert the cops. Accidentally stab your roommate into a coma? Instead of hiding their body in the backwoods, try calling the police first.

So, 911 it is.

“911. What’s your emergency?” sings a wonderfully calm person who sounds as though they just sipped a fourteenth cup of java.

“Okay, so this is weird but I received an unsigned letter telling me to bring someone a McMuffin.” I hear what sounds like a stifled cough. Oh, poor person, I hope they aren’t suffering too badly from seasonal allergies.

“And you believe this is an emergency?” Sigh. I hear an actual sigh.

“Well, it’s kinda scary. They know where I live, after all. Isn’t this an emergency?” Can’t they tell that my heart rate is twice its normal and I can barely lift my arm to scratch the nervous splotches covering my neck and face? I guess they can’t smell my armpits, dripping stains to my waist.

“Well,” they begin and I already sense somehow that they are going to chastise me. “I’m not sure that this is exactly what would qualify as an emergency.”

You know, though, that it is indeed an emergency. Isn’t it? What are you going to do now?

Options: