Once upon a time (in 2188), a burrito joint opened near the Precinct 9 Police Headquarters.

The name of the joint was "A Chipotle Off The Old Block", which everyone thought was pretty stupid, but the burritos were undeniably excellent. "Chipotle" became the favored lunch hangout for off-duty officers, detectives and administrators.

Now it just so happened that a much-loved detective of Precinct 9 named Rufus Goldthwaite was a very big fan of the nearby burrito place. He was also exceedingly unlucky, needing to constantly ask favors of his fellows at the precinct and be bailed out of trouble. His continued promise, whenever someone did something for him, was "I'll buy you a burrito."

Typically Rufus made good on his promises quickly; he would purchase the burrito for the owed party no longer than a week after it was owed. In May of 2193, however, Rufus had financial troubles. A nasty divorce settlement had left poor Rufus with almost no money and no place to live. His life had become extremely expensive and he was unable to keep up with his burrito debts. Naturally, his colleagues would have been more than willing to ignore Rufus's self-imposed debts, but he would hear none of it and meticulously kept track of the burritos he owed as dozens accrued. Everyone worried.

On Friday, June 21st of 2193, Rufus Goldthwaite walked into the office with a grin on his face and news. He had won the lottery.

"Call Precinct 11, Cap. Nobody works today," Rufus is reported to have said. "It's Burrito Day, m*th*rf*ck*rs!"

Rufus paid all of his debts that day. With the help of a neighboring, allied Precinct, Precinct 9 had a district-wide party that lasted all day and well into the night. Soon, the tradition of owing and paying burritos for favors-- small and large-- became a tradition not only in Precinct 9, but nearby precincts as well. Precinct 9 maintained the most widespread practice of the tradition, eventually establishing monthly 'payoff days' when the full department would clear out most of its burrito debts.

Tragically, Rufus Goldthwaite was killed in a shootout on January 25th, 2197. In his honor, June 21st was appointed the Official Burrito Day for Precinct 9, a day wherein Precinct 11 would cover for their neighbors in duties and the dedicated members of Precinct 9 would celebrate to honor the spirit and good will of Rufus Goldthwaite, setting the employees of BurritoMan (the new name of the favored burrito joint) into a flurry of activity and profit.

Appearance aside, Matt Lombard had an important job to do. He was the Captain of the New Washington Police Department's Ninth Precinct, and that meant that a tough, hardworking day lay ahead of him.

Clearing his throat a few times, Matt stood up and set about getting ready. Once completely clean and coiffed, Matt turned to his closet. He ignored the P9 suit that he normally wore to work, and instead picked up a t-shirt with an ancient iconographic cartoon character on the center. He put it on, and tucked it into a pair of relaxed-fit, extra-breathable cargo pants. Over the ensemble he strapped on his Waki Nine shoulder holster, then donned a loud hawaiian shirt, open. By the time he had finished affixing a shield generator to his belt, he was already out the door.

It was only a short jog from Matt's apartment to the Precinct HQ, but he was on the phone the whole time, already chatting at no one in particular as he left the building.

"... I've already uploaded the backup crew to your systems, and REACT has agreed to cover if-- what? No, I think it is. If you don't prepare for the worst, it'll happen. What? No, I do. I've seen your people, they're good."

He fished in his pocket for his portable Shell, which he tapped at with a fingernail.

"It's not a matter of faith, Rue, it's a matter of precaution. People know about this; I don't want rioting in the streets. All right. Ok. See you soon. Yeah, you said barbacoa, right? Okay, upload it."

He tapped the small device on his ear and stopped at the doors to Precinct 9. He took a deep breath. "Time to get to work."

Inside the Precinct 9 headquarters, everyone started in surprise as the doors flew violently open from a savage kick. Between them stood Captain Matthew Lombard, silhouetted by the morning light.

He grinned savagely and shouted. "It's Burrito Day, motherfuckers!"

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