Section 37
The following takes place following: Jaywalking
They make their way through the empty office and eventually find the stairs. After heading down about five floors, they reach a set of double doors leading into a long corridor.
There are no windows. The corridor is claustrophobic and eerie — lined with old framed paintings and traditional decor, completely different from the modern, open office they started in.
They step through another set of doors into a reception area. Two bulky, armed guards stand by a metal detector. A middle-aged woman sits behind the desk, reading a magazine written in Cyrillic.
Master Devlin: “Excuse me, madam, I was wondering if you could point us towards the exit? Our business has concluded here.”
Without looking up, she gestures toward the door behind the guards.
Master Devlin: “Thank you…” 😒
The Masters walk up to the guards, with Travers cautiously trailing behind.
Master Devlin: “Excuse me, gentlemen, would you be so kind as to let us through those doors—or even better, escort us out?”
Guard #1: “Papers, please.”
The Masters show their Council badges. Travers fumbles through his pockets and pulls out the only thing he can find: a VIP card for the Sasshole Lounge, complete with his name and a drunken mugshot.
The guard inspects the IDs.
Guard #1: “Mr Devlin, Mr Harold, and… Mr Travers. Very good. Now, if you’ll just provide your discharge papers as well…”
Travers’ moustache droops.
Travers: “Discharge papers?”
Guard #2: (eyeing Travers) “What is that, some kind of parrot?”
Master Devlin: “Goblin.”
Master Harold: “We were not detained, therefore we don’t require discharge papers.”
Guard #1: “Heh. Sounds like we have a comedian.”
Master Harold: “Do I look like I’m joking?”
Guard #1: “You look like a troublemaker.”
Guard #2: “Everyone requires discharge papers before they can leave. What kind of police station would this be if you could just walk out?”
Master Devlin: “What kind of police station is this? Are we in Honduras or something?”
Guard #2: “This is Widdlington. You need discharge papers to pass through these doors.” Masters Devlin and Harold: 🤨
Travers: “We don’t have papers. The truth is, officers… they wanted to leave without permission. I said it was a bad idea, but I didn’t want to be left behind…”
Master Devlin: “Shut up, Travers.”
Guard #1: “You mean to say you all escaped from custody?” Guard #2 raises his AK-74U. Guard #1 starts speaking codes into his radio.
Master Harold: “Gentlemen, I advise you to lower your weapons. My client cannot be held here—there’s nothing to charge him with. The investigating officers got bored and left. After discovering the office was empty, we simply decided to leave. Now, if you continue to obstruct us, you’ll find yourself appearing before a judge in the morning.”
A ping sounds from the receptionist’s computer. She peers over her glasses, waves Guard #1 over, and shows him something.
He returns, drawing his FN FAL and pointing it at Harold.
Guard #1: “James Harold, I’m arresting you under Section 37.”
Master Harold: “What is the meaning of this?”
Guard #2: “Section 37?”
Guard #1: “That’s right.”
Guard #2: “Right. I’ve got him covered. Cuff him.”
Master Harold: “This is outrageous. Section 37? Installation of electrical infrastructure? Really?”
Guard #1: “Shut up, creep. You two—stand back.”
Travers immediately complies. Devlin looks mildly annoyed, but not surprised. Guard #1 cuffs Harold.
Master Devlin: “Care to explain why you’re arresting my solicitor?”
Guard #1: “Mr Harold is being detained under Section 37 of the Prevention of Obstruction and Compliance Act, 2024. Mr Harold, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent, though your silence may imply guilt. Anything you say—or don’t say—can and will be used against you. You have no right to legal counsel, no right to appeal, and no right to explanation. Do you understand these rights?”
Master Harold: “…No. No, I don’t.”
Guard #1: “Too bad, creep. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have any rights at all. Come on, let’s go.”
Guard #2 pepper-sprays Harold. Harold squeals.
Travers: “Can we go?”
Guard #2: “Sure. Get your discharge papers from the desk.”
Guard #1: “Good luck… hehe.”
Master Devlin: “I’m sorry, James. We’ll get this straightened out.”
Travers: “Come on, Master Devlin… I want to go home. This has been a very trying evening.”
Harold is dragged away through the door they came from.
Travers: “Well, I think that went about as well as one could hope! Two out of three of us making it ain’t bad…”
Master Devlin: “What the fuck just happened?”
Receptionist: “We do not tolerate bad language in this building. Cease and desist from vulgarity, or you will be arrested.”
Travers: “It’s quite simple, Master Devlin. Mr Harold was arrested and detained under Section 37 of the, uh, Public Nuisance Act of… something. I admit, I’m a little rusty on the lawyering. But the good news is we’re free to go—as soon as we get our discharge papers from this fine young lady. Now didn’t I tell you I’d get you out of here? You know, I should really restart my practice. You could join me—Travers, Travers & Devlin! National treasures of the legal world!”
Master Devlin: “Don’t be a fool, Travers. They made it up. As Harold said, it’s about installing electrical infrastructure. But I think it’s also a code—something to send you to hospital instead of prison. Either way, it’s nonsense. Madam, would you please provide our discharge papers so we can vacate the premises?”
The receptionist sighs, types on her computer, and pulls up Travers’ record. Her expression curdles with disgust. She prints some labels, sticks them to documents, and slides them across the counter.
Receptionist: “Don’t lose these.”
Master Devlin thanks her, and they head through the doors past the desk, following another narrow corridor until they reach a staircase leading only up.
Travers: 😖
Master Devlin: “It’s funny how I was the one arrested, yet it was your criminal record that made that woman’s face twist like that.”
Travers: “This is neither the time nor place to dwell on Travers’ past legal difficulties, Master Devlin. I’d like to focus on getting out of here.”
They climb the stairs, walk along a long corridor, and go down another flight.
They find another woman at a desk who looks almost identical to the previous one.
Master Devlin: “Excuse me, madam, we have—”
Female Clerk: “Discharge labels, please.” They hand them over. She studies them.
Female Clerk: “Hrmm. Mr Devlin, you’re free to go. Mr Travers, it says you’re a possible flight risk. Have you completed Form 7B?”
Travers: “No one gave me Form 7B! I wasn’t under arrest—that was Master Devlin. I’m his lawyer! And a national treasure. Frankly, I resent the insinuation that Travers could be a flight risk. Traverses are law-abiding, huhwite goblins of good character. The only reason I’m here at all is because the Master was foolish enough to jaywalk and then attempt to bribe out of turn.”
Female Clerk: “...Why do you have discharge papers, then? And there’s nothing in your file that says you’re a national treasure. I don’t make the rules, Mr Trevor. But you still need Form 7B.”
Master Devlin: “Well, Travers, these seem like your affairs. I’ll let myself out.”
Travers: “No, Master Devlin, you’re leaving out of turn! Madam, Master Devlin is my master—ergo, legal guardian. He’s the one you need to speak to. I’m sure he’ll help with this bureaucratic hufflepuff.”
Master Devlin: “Don’t be preposterous, Travers. You’re supposed to be the hot-shot lawyer. I’m sure you can find a loophole.”
Travers: “Just a minute, Master Devlin. Now, madam, I can assure you I have no intention of leaving Widdlington. If you wish to find me, I’ll be either at The Waldopolis Chronicle or the Sass Hole Gentlemen’s Club. Now, Master Devlin will vouch for me as my guardian, isn’t that right?”
Master Devlin: (sigh) “Sure.”
Travers: “There, see?”
Female Clerk: “Oh, I don’t care.”
She stamps Travers’ discharge papers.
Female Clerk: “There you go, Mr Trevor.”
Travers: “It’s Travers.”
Female Clerk: “Whatever.”
The two leave the police station.
Devlin looks around, realizing it’s that strange station in Volkov where Stanbot 2.0 disappeared several seasons ago. Suddenly his phone buzzes.
wF (text): “The Masta is Dutch-Irish! 🤪 Also, the office is being raided by government goons…”
Master Devlin: “Apparently the government are raiding the office. They’re going to seize the draft article and the evidence you insisted we hold back. Come on—we need to hurry.”
The Master grabs Travers, and together they fly toward The Waldopolis Chronicle.
****
The Waldopolis Chronicle — Sep 12, 2024, 15:40
Travers and the Master head up into the office, which has been completely ransacked. Helen is already trying to tidy up. Ermintrude looks dejected.
Travers is outraged that his porn collection and topless photos have been seized. Even his Dr Shawn poster has been ripped from the wall.
He searches for his cigars and bourbon. They’ve been confiscated too.
Travers: “Those motherfuckers are going to pay for this... You don’t fuck with an Ed damn national treasure!! Ermintrude! Get in here!”
Ermintrude: “Yes, boss?”
Travers: “Take off your top, please.”
Without a word, Ermintrude complies and unfastens her blouse.
Master Devlin: “Travers? Is this really necessary?”
Travers: “Absolutely!”
Ermintrude then takes off her bra and places it on the desk in front of Travers.
Travers stares at the sight of her giant melons and lets out a relaxed sigh.
Travers: “Thank you, Ermintrude. I feel better already.”
Master Devlin: “Travers, I must insist. I understand you are upset, but this is not necessary.”
Travers: “Huh? Oh right... Actually, it is...”
Ermintrude: “It’s okay, Master Devlin. I don’t mind...”
Travers picks up the bra and examines it closely. Around the seam, he slides a small, thin USB memory stick out from within the bra. He then holds it up triumphantly.
Master Devlin: “What’s on there?”
Travers: “Backups! Can’t be too careful!”
Travers hands the bra back to Ermintrude.
Travers: “Thank you, my dear.”
Master Devlin: “Backups of what?”
Travers: “All my porn collection, of course. Including scans of everything they stole... Seven terabytes’ worth. Can’t be too careful. It won’t replace my physical copies, posters, and magazines... 😔 But it’s something.”
Master Devlin: “I was almost impressed there, Travers... 😒 I was hoping perhaps you’d backed up the evidence and the exposé we were working on...”
Travers: “Oh right... I see... Wait a minute, I did!
Helen: !”
Helen (stepping in): “Yes, Mr Travers?”
Travers: “You still got that floppy disk I gave you? The disk I asked you to keep safe, please.”
Helen: : “Yes, sir!”
Helen: reaches into her cleavage and fishes out the disk.
Travers: “Wally gave me it.”
Master Devlin: “Hmm. That’s good, I guess. I assume you have access to a floppy drive to read it?”
Travers: “Umm...”
The Waldoverse continues in The Floppy Menace