Doug Penhall's Injustice In The US

When Doug Penhall entered the bustling operations room of the Jump Street 's chapel, he found his gaze immediately drawn to his best friend, Tom Hanson. It was not unusual for him to beeline to Tom when he arrived at work; they always had plenty to talk about, such as baseball, girls, football, girls, hockey, and of course, girls. But what caught his attention on that particular morning was the intensity of Tom’s gaze. With his brow puckered in concentration and his full, bowed lips pursed in a displeased moue, Tom’s stare remained fixed, although on what, Doug had no idea. However, his curiosity was genuinely piqued and forgoing his habitual early morning trip to the coffeemaker, he sauntered over to Tom’s desk, pulled up a chair and sat

He was an exception cop who, like all the officers working at Jump Street, still looked young enough to pass as a teenager. However, because of the circumstances of his arrival—being sent undercover to see if the team were, in fact, guilty of entrapping minors—his acclimation from official nark to undercover nark had been a somewhat bumpy transition. Even after Tom’s accusations of rape and racism, he had taken it all in his stride and eventually, after working together, Doug, Judy and Harry had accepted him as one of their own. Only Tom held on to his lingering animosity, his distrust of Booker causing the two men to argue constantly, much to the annoyance of their captain. But Tom could not shake off his genuine dislike of Dennis Booker. As far as he was concerned, the arrogant cop was bad news and he could not understand why nobody else could see

“Yeah… Well, technically he’s bi,” Doug replied before his eyebrows suddenly rose in surprise. “I thought you knew?”

“How would I know?” Tom hissed in an angry rush of words. “It’s not like he’s wearing a fucking sign around his neck!”

The idea of Booker wearing a neon sign that stated I’M BISEXUAL, HONK IF YOU THINK I’M SEXY was too much for Doug and he started to snigger like a twelve-year-old. But Tom’s irate and somewhat hurt expression soon sobered his mood and swallowing down the last of his giggles, he once again placed an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Lighten up, Hanson. It’s not a big deal. So Booker swings both ways, it’s not like his sexuality affects how he does his job. He’s a good cop and that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah?” Tom muttered moodily, his face a picture of despondency. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s probably featuring in his