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I've seen a lot of things I'll never be able to forget, but hey, you don't get into the CPU expecting it to be easy.

NAME: Stu and Didi Pickles
CHARGES: Child Endangerment

Ugh, these two will haunt me to my dying day.  A real pitiful case, and an example of exactly how not to be a parent.

When the reports came in on these two it was almost impossible to believe; no parents can be this bad.

Children riding around on vacuum cleaners, being allowed to wander unsupervised around movie theaters, and worst of all, the inventions, good God the inventions.

Seems that Stu fancied himself quite the inventor, and what's more he had found himself the perfect guinea pigs: his children and their neighborhood friends.  The shit this man produced, and the danger it presented to those poor kids was a sight to see.

A talking clown which hunted down babies, thirsty for blood.  A motorized car with faulty breaks.  This man was sick and had to be taken care of.

We captured the two on a sting operation.  When the dastardly duo took a trip to see Reptar on Ice we waited for the inevitable.  It took just minutes for the children to be allowed to crawl away, unsupervised and unnoticed by their "parents."  We moved in fast and secured the two with minimal ado.  I slept well that night.

STATUS: Detained
 

NAME: Don Rocko
CHARGES: Public Indecency; Public Disorder

As I sit on the eve of my retirement, this is the one I'll  always regret.  To think I'm punching out while this motherfucker's still out there repulses me.  Nothing I can do, shit slides off of him like he's made of Teflon.

It's not for lack of effort that we find ourselves unable to bring him down, we've thrown the book at him, but he has a knack for having opposing witnesses suddenly decide to not testify. Or continue breathing.

We first brought him down in '98.  Got him on Public Indecency.  Exposing himself to a bunch of school children.  Fucking perv was fond of strolling around in nothing but a collared shirt, not caring who saw his less appropriate parts.

Thought we had him for sure a few years ago.  Led a Goddamned uprising against city hall.  Singing, dancing, the works.  Bighead, our key witness, his fucking house exploded the day he was to testify.  Exploded.

The Don's arm is long, he runs the streets with the aid of his vicious dog mafia.  He runs the sewers through a childhood friend rumored to be a goldfish.  What I tell you now may upset you, but every dollar you spend in this town is putting money right in Rocko's pocket.  He owns this town, and any lawman who tells you other wise is full of shit.

STATUS: Free

NAME: Doug Funnie, aka. Quailman
CHARGES: Tresspassing; Assault

Ha, Quailman.

What a fucking joke.

This little shit's problems started when he decided to go crawling through the vents of his local Middle School, tripping balls on this new drug that's been spreading through our fair city like the HIV at Woodstock.  They call it "doing the Beet."

Nasty little habit, really fucks with the little twerps brains, makes 'em see things that just ain't there.

So we found this one in the school gym, and it wasn't pretty.

A local girl, a one Patty Mayonnaise, was in the corner sobbing profusely.  She'd been the one who called 911.  Funnie was at mid-court standing over a lump on the floor, kicking it repeatedly.

The lump was Roger Klotz, and he was in a bad way.  Funnie had knocked out most of his teeth, as well as re-arranged his face significantly.  His left arm was bent at an unholy angle, and Funnie's dog had its fangs embedded in the poor sap's left calf.

Kid claimed he was rescuing the girl from some evil Doctor.  Like I said, tripping balls.

It took three solid pistol-butts to the back-of-the-head to knock Quailman out.

STATUS: At the Betty Ford Clinic

NAME: Spongebob Squarepants, aka. the Bikini Bottom Butcher
CHARGES: 1st Degree Murder, 3 counts

There are some bad eggs out there, I think we all know that.

This one's the worst.

He was always personable.  The real psychos are always people-persons.  One day he just snapped and started killing.  No warning signs; clean record, good friendships.  He just went off the handle.

His friend Pat Star was first to go.  Sick fuck filmed the damn thing and left us the video.

He planned this well; waited until Star had turned in for the night, until he had begun his before-bed snack.  He knew Star would be too distracted to hear him enter, or even notice him in the room.  Until he heard the gun cock of course.

One shot.  Precision.  Efficiency.

Fucked up, but you gotta admire the skill.  Makes you wonder how long he practiced for that very day.

With that taken care of, he sought out his co-worker, a character by the name of Squidward.

It would be an understatement to say that these two had a tense relationship.  Squidward made his reservations about Squarepants known.  Hell, he was the only one who saw the little yellow bastard for what he really was.

Squarepants kicked down the door, and marched Squidward out of the house at gunpoint, until they reached the home of a Ms. Sandy Cheeks, a squirrel who had made her home under the sea.

Squidward was found a week later, tied to Cheeks' table by his own tentacles.  He was dried and withered like a raisin.

Cheek's body was never found, though Squarepants left this easy to decipher picture at the scene for us.  There's another body out there just waiting for us.

As for the sick bastard himself, well we cut out the middleman on this one.  He showed up at his job at the Krusty Krab two days before we found his buddy Squidward, waving his gun with pride.

Too bad he didn't know the Krusty Krab has a silent alarm.  We tried to talk him down, but well, he drew on us.

STATUS: Deceased following firefight with authorities

CAT!

CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!

THERE'S A CAT OVER THERE!!!!!  

GOTTAGETTHECATGOTTAGETTHECATGOTTAGETTHECAT!!!!