We're under arrest

This happened a couple weeks back but is still worth dramatizing. Details are fictional; the story is pure truth.

Statesville, North Carolina.

The pier was quiet. A group of high schoolers stroll along the boardwalk, one balancing on the railing alongside the rest. A couple sits on a wooden bench, enjoying the sunset and wondering whether the ships on the horizon are coming home or heading out to sea. A teenage boy in a yellow collared shirt leans over the counter of a frozen banana stand, bored from having sold only five bananas in as many hours. A young man in a track jacket stands at the end of the pier, a drawstring backpack hanging off his shoulder. He apprehensively watches two men approaching. The two men walk slowly. One of the men is wearing a blue suede jacket with matching shoes, the other an oversized cotton t-shirt and baggy washed out jeans. The men stop near the banana stand where one makes a phone call. Hanging up with a satisfied look, they continue along the wooden planks.

The track jacket meets the suede and cotton half way along the length of the pier. The suede pulls out a roll of twenty dollars bills. The track jacket strips off the rubber band holding them bound and counts the money. All there. He pulls open the drawstring of his pack and pulls out a brown paper bag. He hands it to the cotton. The cotton looks inside and hands the bag to his companion.

In an instant, the suede reaches inside his jacket, and the track jacket too reaches for his pocket, just when the cotton pulls a pistol out of his jeans waistband. The track jacket freezes, hand still inside his pocket. The cotton motions with his gun for the track jacket to show his hands. The track jacket complies. The suede pulls out a gold badge, indicating he's a detective for the Statesville Police Department. The track jacket smiles and again reaches for his pocket. The cotton, moving quickly, grabs the track jacket's forearm and wraps it around his back, resting his gun at the junction of his spine and skull. The suede thrusts a hand into the track jacket's pocket and pulls out a star-shaped badge. Confusion replaces the attentive looks on suede and cotton's faces. Words are exchanged. The track jacket explains that he's from the sheriff's office. The cotton releases his grip.

Undercover cops arresting each other; tax-payer's dollars well spent. This happened.

*Pier by alan2onion, money roll by zzzack