gov't mule (part II): enter deus ex machina

so there i am, chained to a parking meter with a cop yelling things at me like: do you or don't you have the power to steal souls? was stealing the oranges essential to your plan to steal her soul? or were they for some other, more nefarious, endeavor? are you or are you not a minotaur?
my headache was at a fevered pitch andmy hind quarters ached something fierce so i asked the cop if i could reach into my saddle bag for some medication. Big mistake.

cop: medication eh? you think i'm gonna allow to reach in there and pull out a lightening bolt or some such mythical tool with which to dispatch me? i think not my four legged friend!

me: *?* lightening?... i'm just a t-shirted, investment banking centaur trying...

cop: whoa, whoa, whoa don't spin your web of lies and sould stealing magic on me buddy. keep your hands where i can see 'em and i'll just search your fancy horse purse...

me: it's a saddle bag!

cop: ... faggy mare's purse for contraband, weapons, or occult paraphanelia. [begins rummaging] weh-he-hell...what do we got here? [pulls out a perscription bottle] looks like illegal dope to me.

me: that's prescription! that's my doctor

cop: sez here they's horse tranquilizers...

me: i'm a centaur!

cop: well, mr. scent-or, this bottle doesn't say anything about minotaurs, centaurs, or faggy mare's purse carrying carrying creatures so i'm taking your smelly, good for nothing, orange soul, stealing hide in!

me: technically, shouldn't it be "orange and soul stealing?" i don't think soul's are coloured.

cop: is that a racist remark?

me: *?*

cop: on top of all this, you're a racist too!

me: i'm a latino half-man and a brown horse...

cop [reaching for tazer] say good night mr.ed [deploys tazer]

everything went black after that. the next thing i remember was that i was kneeling on my front legs, my head was throbbing, and i was incredibly groggy. i was vaguely aware that my saddle bag wasn't on properly when i noticed it was laying beside me. I struggling to comprehend what was on my back when i hear it...the quiet moaning. i shudder at the thought of it. Dr. Rosenthal has helped me alot but i've got a long way to go. anyway, i hear something to the effect of "ohhh yeahh, do you like bareback you dirty old nag? i bet you do" and i can feel my human arms being pulled behind my human back and handcuffed.

me: hey, what are you doing?

cop: never mind nag, i'm just up here to cuff you.

me: this is outrageous! i want my lawyer immediately!

cop: whoa, whoa, whoa! no need for that kind of talk philly. i'm just gonna take you to a nice field out in the country where you can graze and be put out to stud.

me: what?! what the hell are you talking about? i don't eat grass, i like california rolls! this farce has gone on long enough.

[enter Hulk Hogan]
HH: i agree

cop: Hulk Hogan!

HH: that's right little hulkamaniac and the Hulkster is very disappointed in you. see, i've got this whole distresssing episode on tape here and i'm damn sure going to court to ensure you lose you badge and my buddy here is released and compensated.

cop: *** what if i let him go ...with a warning and promise never to bother him again?

HH: what do you say friend?

me: what? no! you're going to jail you sadistic prick.

HH: you heard the t-shirt wearing centaur. bring it in boys [enter old school wrestler's from the 80's including Mr. T] the boys have been deputized and are now the front line and end of the line in terms of justice in this country. [Jake the snake Roberts, the Iron Shiek, and Mr. T rip off the cop's uniform, cuff him, and usher him into van from the "A-team"]. Mr. t-shirt wearing centaur, you have our apologies and our promise to carry out justice.

unsure if any of this was actually happening or if i'd o.d.'d on traquilizers, i smiled weakly, shook his hand, and posed for a picture with the "Wrestling Justince Wranglers." the next thing i remember was waking up in my bed, a little worse for wear and tired as hell. i guess, the one thing i've learned is that old people are fucking crazy with their insane sense of sidewalk entitlement and that from now on i will hoof-kick any old person that invades my personal space. i've also learned that horse tranquilizers and Jack danilels are not as complimentary as i've been led to believe. oh, and that hulk Hogan is a hell of a guy.
t-shirted centaur