One of my favourite TV shows in the world is Brooklyn-99, and one of my favourite characters from this show is Terry Jeffords. He is physically intimidating, but very kind, and is always a reliable source of entertainment. Just for fun and to experiment a little, I have decided to write a comedic diary entry from the perspective of Terry Jeffords for my blog this month. I hope you all enjoy it even if you are not familiar with this show. (which I highly recommend you become familiar with, btw.)
Dear Diary,
Yesterday might have been the worst day of my entire life! As soon as I got to work, the power went out, and right after, a very started Hitchcock spilled 2 cans of tomato sauce all over my desk and chair. But, I reminded myself I that I needed to calm down, as everyone in the 99th precinct knows food-related accidents happen frequently when Hitchcock is around.
Luckily, I was the one assigned to write all the reports that day, so I was forced to write everything by hand. Yes, on my cramped, garlicky and sticky desk, because our space is being shared with another precinct. Man, Holt just had to piss off Commissioner Kelly. Work carried on uneventfully for a while until lunch. You know, Rosa threatening to maim people, Amy trying to impress Holt and failing miserably, and Jake being Jake.
Impossibly, my day got worse at lunchtime. When I went over to the fridge to get my pasta, rice, chicken, bread, and most importantly, some full-fat blueberry and vanilla yogurt, it was all spoiled due to the power outage. Apparently, I was only one who did not get the message to transport all food items to a cooler not run by electricity. Outraged, I temporarily lost control of myself and punched a dent in the fridge. I returned home smelling like a cheap Italian restaurant, and short $200. My two precious daughters asking what “F*****g Hell” and “F**k my life” meant did not ameliorate my mood, and neither did Sharon’s lecture about anger management.
As I was settling into bed to forget about my horrible day, Holt suddenly woke me up to inform me Hitchcock and Scully were in a terrible situation and needed my help. Nobody else could respond as they were working shifts of their own. Frantically, I drove to the precinct, expecting armed robbery of sensitive documents, or worse, a hostage situation. After the surveillance tape showed nothing out of the ordinary, I barged in, nervous about what the threatening situation could be. It turned out that a snack in the vending machine got stuck and they wanted me to lift it to shake the food out.
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