The Boy on the Beach (Drunk Edition)

Hoes call me Kate Cambridge. I work as a five-o fool up in Melbourne, Florida. We probably solve straight-up strange crimes yo, but dis crime is just ta tha deal wit bein supernatural. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Well shiiiit, it all started up in 2002 yo, but we never thought bout how tha fuck tha crime could be connected ta this.
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==March 23, 2002==
A playa of mine named Dizzy Clark gave me shiznit on tha event, as da thug was there ta witnizz it yo. His lil hustla Tyla wanted ta play on tha beach, n' da perved-out muthafucka holla'd his schmoooove ass could. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude took dis a lil' bit too literally, though, since da thug went mad far tha fuck into tha water, ta tha point where he gots ta tha area where boats were, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Dizzy tried ta tell Tyla ta git up yo, but by tha time da ruffneck did, dat shiznit was too late yo. His lil hustla already reached a funky-ass boat n' gots hit up in tha head by tha hull of a speedboat fo' realz. At dat point da thug was flailin round helplessly n' gots hit by another boat, n' dat boat's rotor blades sliced tha side of his stomach, which caused his ass ta bleed up n' sink up in tha ocean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da gameguard noticed n' ordered mah playas ta git outta tha gin n juice n' shit. 
Lata dat day, tha daddy pressed charges on tha boat drivers fo' not payin attention ta what tha fuck was goin' down ta his son. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Nevertheless, da thug was devastated yo, but dat was tha least of our problems.
==March 24, 2002==
Da same boat driver dat hit tha pimp wit his boat was found chillin wit tha fishes n' washed up on tha beach wit a piece of coral all up in his head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! No Muthafucka knew whoz ass done did it yo, but some believed dat tha daddy committed tha event as revenge fo' his son's dirtnap. But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat our crazy asses had no real evidence on whoz ass done did dat shit.
==March 24, 2003==
Da second boat driver who's rotor blades cut Tyler's stomach was found washed up on tha beach wit his head straight-up missin yo. His body was covered up in sand, seaweed, n' dead fish. Everyone was straight-up shocked dat a similar cappin' would happen exactly one year afta tha original gangsta cappin' n' shit. I tried ta gather evidence yo, but there was no handprints on tha corpse.
==March 24, 2004 - March 23, 2022==
Around dis time, every last muthafuckin year a thug would come washed up on tha beach brutally murdered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Women, men, children, n' even a thugged-out dawg on one occasion was all different suckas. I decided enough was enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. I grabbed mah journal, flashlight, n' camera n' axed fo' a overnight boat ride ta peep whoz ass was committin these murders.
I planned ta catch dis psycho all up in tha exact time where he attacks yo, but when midnight rolled around, I gots a shitload mo' than I bargained fo' on mah investigation.
==12:00 AM, March 24, 2022==
I spotted a playa boat-rowin round tha ocean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I grabbed mah camera ta record tha dirtnap, as I predicted dat it would be whoz ass he goes after yo, but there was not a god damn thang bangin-ass until tha playa gots near tha beach. Once he put his supplies away, I saw what tha fuck might be da most thugged-out grotesque thang I eva saw risin outta tha sand, n' I thought I had peeped wild-ass shiznit already.
Dat shiznit was Tyla Clark, still 8 muthafuckin years oldschool yo, but clearly aged proven by all tha rottin skin dat dat schmoooove muthafucka had. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! His afro was almost gone, wit only a lil' small-ass patch of it left, one of his wild lil' fuckin eyes straight-up danglin outta his wild lil' fuckin eye socket, tha same cut he gots from tha boat (which was mad rottin n' surrounded by flies), n' nuff muthafuckin tears up in his blackened skin exposin his skeleton n' organs (or what tha fuck was left of them). I yelled fo' Tyla ta stop. But his wild lil' focus came off tha playa n' focused on me, n' da perved-out muthafucka started grinnin wit nuff muthafuckin cavities, yellow teeth, n' worms comin outta his crazy-ass grill n' goin tha fuck into his wild lil' fuckin ear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I then gots it fo' realz. All these annual murdaz was from his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude was tha killa we was tryin ta catch. I called fo' backup yo, but Tyla rushed all up in mah face. I slapped his wild lil' grill ta git his ass away, which just caused his fuckin lil' danglin eye ta fall out.
My fuckin five-o partner Ryan finally arrived, wit a glock up in his hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude took two shots yo, but it just made Tyla angrier n' shiznit yo. Dude rushed at Ryan n' started smokin his wild lil' grill right up in front of mah dirty ass yo. Dude tossed tha remains tha fuck into tha ocean n' burrowed back under tha sand afta frontin his yearly victim. I didn't want any mo' innocent playas bein harmed, so I, without warning, pulled Tyler's head off fo' realz. All of a sudden, his body just dropped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I done did dat shit. I stopped his muthafuckin ass. Or at least I thought.
His headless body rushed n' capped tha playa da thug was tryin ta bust a cap up in earlier n' shiznit fo' realz. At dat point, all I could do was close tha beach from March twenty-second ta March twenty-five every last muthafuckin year. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 
That night, there was a knock on mah door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I opened it, n' Tyla was there biaaatch! His head was also reattached since da perved-out muthafucka seemingly used seaweed ta sew it on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude lunged at me, only fo' me ta dodge his muthafuckin ass. I would reason wit his ass yo, but there is no way ta reason wit a thugged-out dead boy. I ran tha fuck into mah backyard n' hid up in tha shed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I found mah lawnmower n' gave it ta his muthafuckin ass. I lifted it up n' mowed his ass straight-up up in half n' buried his body. I couldn't believe dat shiznit son! This horrifyin experience was finally over.
Now, I live a aiiight game yo, but dis hood aint NEVER gonna be tha same afta tha murdaz caused by Da Boy On Da Beach, as mah boss called his muthafuckin ass.
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