A law enforcement cover letter
To Whom it May Concern,
I am writing to express my interest in joining the [INSERT ANY TOWN HERE] Police Force. Ever since day one, I’ve known I was destined to be a police officer. As a child, I used to shoot squirrels in my backyard with my airsoft gun and pretend they were Barack Hussein Obama and his gang of Antifa robots coming to take away our precious bodily fluids. With that being said, I’d like to continue the proud tradition of American policing. I can assure you I will put the “force” back in law enforcement.
As for my qualifications, I believe my resume speaks for itself. For starters, my penis is about a fourth the size of the national average so I will have no problem overcompensating for that in the form of gratuitous violence. Additionally, in high school, I made history by becoming the first person in my town to need 10 years to graduate. In the end, they just gave me my diploma and forced me out because my stint as hall monitor made me a “threat” to the safety of other students. Apparently it’s “politically-incorrect” to walk around a high school clad in riot gear with a loaded AR-15. Goddamn liberals, amirite?! But let me tell you, nobody cut in the lunch line on my watch.
As a private citizen, I’ve gunned down and/or severely maimed at least 50 nonviolent protesters in my life in demonstrations ranging from Black Lives Matter protests to the closure of a beloved Taco Bell in my town. My current body count is higher than ’70s Mick Jagger at an Amsterdam brothel. I once shot a man for praying in a church because the only acceptable time to take a knee is when it’s hovering over someone’s neck.
For some, this would just be another job. For me, it would be a lifestyle. My love for all things law and order has alienated everyone who once cared for me. In fact, my three marriages have failed because the only way I can get an erection now is by seeing a young, unarmed, black man face down on the pavement. Now I just masturbate while watching Cops in my free time. My family tells me I need to talk to a psychologist. But who needs therapy when you can just beat up a Mexican with a nightstick? It’s way cheaper and involves less talk about “feelings.” After all, I’m not a soyboy beta-cuck pussy.
Long story short, the police force would be the perfect outlet for all my unchecked rage and aggression. I’ve also applied to the DMV, Fox News, and Bed, Bath, and Beyond so you better make me a goddamn offer before I take my talents elsewhere. I’ve licked so many boots in my life that I no longer have a sense of taste. Now it’s about damn time I wear them on my feet. Gimme a size 9.5.
With liberty and justice for a select few,