Crustacean Crime Wave

“Yeah, we’ve seen an uptick in robberies by sea creatures lately,” Officer Brimley said. He had unkempt hair, a toothbrush mustache, and a belly that hung over his gun belt. A blob of cocktail sauce, shaped like a sea urchin, stained his khaki shirt. The police station was empty except for the two of us. Wanted posters of a geoduck with gang tattoos and a shark with teeth rotted by meth hung on the posterboard. “People have been flushing opioids down the toilet. Fish get a taste for it and have to steal to support their habit. Crustaceans are the worst. Hell, the DEA just seized a thousand kilos of Mexican Brown at the aquarium but it didn’t make a dent. Drug runners smuggle it in bluefin tuna. Your money’s long gone by now.”

“Is there anything I can do to protect myself?” I asked.

“I’ve got a little something here.” Officer Brimley lowered his voice and leaned close. “Old Bay Magnum. A few blasts of this will stop a giant squid at thirty paces.” He handed me a canister. “Keep quiet about this. Damn do-gooders on Beacon Hill want to limit civilians to drawn butter and tartar sauce as if that will do you any good.”