Officer Agostino Rossi crossed the crowded lobby. Tonight of all nights, when he should be walking his kids around the neighborhood asking for candy corn, he still had the gladiator wannabe to deal with. He wished the guy would just give it up and start speaking Italian. It was getting annoying and, really, who could blame Rossi then if he happened to punch the guy in the nose?

In his twelve years on the force, Rossi had never witnessed a crazier Halloween than this year’s. Four fires and seven robberies had already been reported. Conti and Lombardi were just now dragging four kids dressed as Obi Wan Kenobi through the precinct doors. “B-and-E at a church,” Lombardi said as they passed. All four kids had plastic light sabers hanging from their belts. And it was barely 9 pm.

Rossi put some quarters in the cola machine. He drank the whole can in one swig, let out a big burp and, invigorated by the sugar and the caffeine, he decided to give the gladiator another try. Maybe he’d finally break him.