“And there you are sir, three shredded pork tacos with a pineapple jalapeño glaze.”

The portly man grunted a thank you and shoved a crumpled ten dollar bill into my hand.

“Thank you! Make sure to stop out and see me again!”

Another grunt and a wave as my last patron waddled out into the night. I stretched my aching back and looked to my wrist.

10:58pm.

What a day…

I quickly cleaned the fryers, broke down the condiment trays, rolled up the awning and closed the register. A few more minutes and I was on the road.

Led Zeppelin hummed over the speakers as rain began to sprinkle on the windshield. My eyelids were impossibly heavy. I rubbed the sleep from them and cracked the window.

I blinked once… twice… and the third was entirely too long.

The food truck shuddered and rocked as the motorcycle was sucked underneath it. I screamed and slammed on the brakes.

My heart raced and my gut turned to ice as I flung open the door and ran to the back of the truck.

A crumpled heap of rubber and steel sat six feet from the edge of the contorted body of a patrolman. His silver badge glistened in the moonlight as blood pooled around him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

What do I do?! Do I call 911?!

No…

I’d smoked at least two partial blunts over the course of the day, they’d see it was in my system and that would be it. I wasn’t white so no mercy deals here. My ass would catch a charge, ten years minimum.

And then once you’re in, they can just add more time over bullshit. Happened to my cousin.

Nope, not me…

After looking around to ensure there weren’t any witnesses, I quickly stripped the body, bagged up the clothes and pulled him into the back of the truck.

I poured a gallon of bleach cleaner over the scene, hoping it would dilute any evidence, and got out of there as fast as I could.

After I got home, I sat in a lawn chair with the truck doors open, staring at the body.

For a long time I didn’t know what to do, but suddenly out of no where I had an idea…

————————

“That’s right folks, pork tacos for 50% off today! You can’t beat this deal! Come get some delicious pork tacos!” I shouted over the bullhorn.

Dozens of beachgoers began to shamble to my order window.

This just might work.

I thought as I served the evidence to the crowd, shoving handfuls of crisp five dollar bills into the register.