A short comedy by Daniel Hodgson
The Interrogation of Braiden Cornelious Waldor
This is Detective Denver Thompson of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
Today's date is May 02, 2013, in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
I am interrogating Braiden Cornelious Waldor, who has willingly volunteered to answer questions without a lawyer present regarding a suspicion of fraud with aggravating circumstances brought forward by Mr. Waldor's employer, CanaData Canadian Data Processing Headoffice Location.
Hello Braiden, I'm Detective Thompson, we spoke on the phone after you called the station and decided to turn yourself in.
It sounded like there was a bit of confusion on the phone but hopefully, we can clear things up here today.
I know you are under a tremendous amount of stress and pres- (cut off by Braiden.)
Oh, good cop is it? And where is the spooky ookie bad cop waitin' to pop out and yell ethnic slurs at me?
I'll never talk to you, you bastard!
I will continue. Your former employer has- (interrupted by Braiden)
I'm the victim, OK, and I'm suing that data theft operation.
I mean, here I am at a police station willingly setting the record straight, a witness statement essentially. An eye witness no less. A whistleblower when you think about it.
You are here to provide a confession of criminal guilt, not a witness statement, as we have overwhelming, hard evidence of you committing a serious crime by fraudulently claiming you are the victim of an assault, as well as wrongful termination based on religious beliefs.
Well, what I witnessed, was someone now called my ex-boss, someone I thought I knew, literally, turn into a monster before my very eyes.
I am going to stop you immediately as you did not have any interaction with a monster as that is impossible.
You literally did not. You are here for a voluntary confession, now confess.
What I heard was you need me.
You need what's inside my sweet noggin and you're willing to deal. Well, keep shufflin' if harsh tones and suspicion is what you're anteing up with.
You talkin' to a business-minded, street-smart, hustlin', bustlin', criminal individual here, Officer Slomimpson. Not some rookie punk!
My name is Detective Thompson because Slomimpson is ridiculous and sounds like nothing and did you just refer to yourself as a criminal?
Na, you got jack scratch without me! And a whole lotta honey if you squeeze the hive like I say.
Now listen up pork rind, cause poppa's got a tale for the ages, and here it is.
(Braiden clears his throat obnoxiously, and audibly licks his lips)
Take my time readyin' myself for this story...
(Clears throat again and speaks quietly to self)
Be rushin' me. Try to make me slip up and tell falsehoods.
(Clears throat a final time)
I Braiden Cornelious Waldor... witnessed... a crime.
That's why I'm here, remember?
And did you take part in any crimes?
... Weeeellll. (extended and relaxed)
Who hasn't snaked on a stolen cookie at least once, right?
A note for the audio recording, the suspect is repeatedly raising and lowering his eyebrows in an exaggerated motion to convey a rebellious satisfaction.
A note for the audio recording, firefighters are the real heroes and cops are minority beating bullies.
Also, I'm speaking. (Annoyed) Anyways...
Eyewitness testimony continues now. Wait what were we talking about?
Describe the events of April 1st, 2013.
Woke up kinda silly that day, if I recall. It was April fools' day right, so dreaming of pranks and also preplanning facial reactions in case anyone pranks me, everything is on film these days.
Also hungry, but I didn't eat immediately like usual, I was gassy.
The part where you are at work.
As I was saying,
I entered the building. I was early as usual. I walked in, through, and then past the entrance.
Then I worked until I was beaten.
You entered the building at 9:58 am even though you were supposed to start your shift at 9:00 am, making you nearly an entire hour late. I checked your attendance.
I also looked in your cubicle and saw your computer still powered on with a search engine on screen and the following search query typed in, quote, "How to sue a company for religious persecution even if you are lying and making it up?"
You checked my attendance! (snorting laugh)
Sorry, Principal Hoffman.
Thompson. Detective Thompson.
Oh, am I late for baby recess again Principal Cryson?, Waah, waah, boohoo.
You are attempting to scam CanaData Canadian Data Processing by accusing your boss of religious persecution and assault.
In addition, you have flirted with also accusing your boss of sexual misconduct but continue that you are, quote, "too traumatized by the sex type things that happened for sure with Mr. Hemmingway, to remember enough for a statement on that, yet" and if you are referring to your boss, his name is Dwane Gustafson, you worked for him for nearly three years and never a Mr. Hemmingway.
Dwane Gustafson, team leader for your data entry department said that you were always "non-stop off the wall outrageous and unfit to do any task regarding anything coherent" he also informed me that the only reason you are still employed is that you and the company are locked in a strange legal struggle based around you filing for squatters' rights over your work area on your first day.
Assaulted in my own home.
Yes, all of the above did happen to me and I will be seeking punitive damages as my punitive have been severely damaged, how badly, I'm still calculating.
On April 1st, 2013, you waltzed into your place of employment, CanaData, at 9:58 am (cut off by Braiden.)
False. That's not accurate at all as I have never waltzed anywhere, I walk with esteem. Shoulders back, chin up, finger guns to friends and the ladies whom tickle my fancy.
The video surveillance overlooking the entrance shows you acting suspiciously celebratory as you enter, dancing through the doorway with moves specific to the famous dance, the Waltz.
You were dancing with an imaginary partner, who was leading you, as you sashayed past security.
In addition to the guards' testimony, the audio from the camera's microphone clearly records you singing "Soon to be rich, soon to be rich, Waltz with me some more you handsome devil you, I'm a dancing millionaire, now twirl me into whimsy and fortune."
That's incorrect. I do remember a bumble bee violently swarming me. If you think that looks like dancing then...
You performed the Waltz step for step.
I always wanted to be a dancer, but I have stage fright.
It all goes back to my carpentry days.
I was supposed to make a stage but I didn't understand carpentry and fell through, breaking all of my legs and arms.
Scared of stages ever since.
First of April.
Oh. Well, I was working away at my desk when I felt my faith slightly waver.
I believe it was around...
Stop. What did you notice?
My Christian faith wavered ever so slightly, most likely from the harsh work conditions I suffered through, somehow.
Anyways, I was typing on my keyboard and well, me, myself, personally, I need to pray throughout the day to maintain my own personal productivity and be more valuable to not just the company but to every, living being.
(Exhausted yet unphased) May the record clearly state that both of Mr. Waldor's arms are fully outstretched with both of his middle fingers pointing toward me in an aggressive manner.
He is also mouthing words that I can not at this time make out as his voice is too timid and soft.
(Very softly and barely audible)
Kick your ass badge or no badge. Bitch.
Braiden's left arm continues to be outstretched with one middle finger raised at me, only now his right arm is bent with a finger gun pointed at his own temple.
Make me do it! Make me do it!
Braiden's arms are now showing clear signals of severe strain. Succumbing to his clear weakness, both arms are lowering to his lap.
And... touchdown on regarding arms and lap.
(Aggressively) I would volunteer my own butthole as a storage unit for manually inserted bull seamen to be later sold on the Asian Pacific black market than lie about what happened!
(Dismissive and annoyed) Pipe down while I recount the truth and nothing but.
Oh, and on the record, you're busted!
(Exhausted) Please continue your side of the events.
Working at my desk under the strain and stress of a busy workload, my faith wavered and I needed a God infusion in my soul, I actually thought in Canada it was perfectly legal to be a Christian or did that change?
Anyways, I momentarily stopped typing, woah right, here in slave labour land Canada an employee stops typing for a second and the authorities are called.
I stopped typing for a second to centre myself with prayer and I prayed for resolve and instantly received it from my friend, father, and mentor, Jesus Christ.
The next thing I know, as I was opening my eyes... I was hit... from my... left or right side. Hard.
Once I came to, I finished my prayer with the sign of the cross and realized that my boss was beating me.
"Wake up!" he was shouting or was it "Die Jesus freak!"?
Causing damage to my shoulders and neck, also my entire back.
And then, I mean his hands were down near my... and did he?... Well, for sure he did actually, then he fires me for being religious!?
Hitting me for praying, wow.
If ever there was cause for a lawsuit, I mean.
So yeah, I guess I'll consider a settlement.
I don't know if you tell the company's lawyers or...
The video surveillance of your floor shows your boss Dwane Gustafson, concerned for your health, gently waking you up and then firing you for sleeping on the job after dodging, what I would call the most telegraphed punch I have ever witnessed, that you threw at him.
You then got on your knees crying hysterically and begged your boss not to fire you, while offering him sexual favours.
Our office has video cameras?