“WASHINGTON—The Justice Department worker accused of throwing a Subway sandwich at a federal agent was re-arrested by an armed team of at least a half-dozen US Marshals in a dramatic Wednesday night raid, new video shows.
Sean Charles Dunn, 37, was cuffed a second time inside his apartment about a mile northwest of the White House—after being slapped with a felony assault charge.
Footage of the raid was posted by the White House on X Thursday evening with the caption: ‘Nighttime Routine: Operation Make D.C. Safe Again Edition.’”
— The New York Post, August 15
Police headquarters, Washington, D.C., present day. A dusty, small office.
A trainee walks in carrying a cake with CONGRATULATIONS! 25 YEARS WITHOUT A SANDWICH-BASED CRIME written on it in large frosted letters. Senior Detective J, Junior Detective F, and Sergeant P are sitting around. Everyone claps.
Trainee: Who wants to blow it out?
A panicked junior detective, K, rushes in.
Detective K: Turn on the TV.
They turn on the TV. On the screen, footage of a DOJ employee tossing a hoagie at a federal law-enforcement officer and running off.
The trainee drops the cake.
Detective J: No!
Detective K: What in tarnation were those officers doing there? Don’t they know the first thing about sandwich-crime prevention?
Trainee: It doesn’t look like it hit very hard. Seemed soggy.
Lady Sleuth: No. They’ll count it. Remember the hot-dog incident in ’73?
Detective F: But a hot dog isn’t a sandwich!
Detective J: The record keepers didn’t agree.
Trainee: We should have fired the record keepers!
Detective J: (Slamming his fist on the table) That’s not how we DO things in the sandwich division. Doesn’t matter if we get bad press, like a subpar panini. We don’t cut corners, unless the sandwich in question is a round-type sandwich.
Detective F: Some are.
Officer J: You think 25 years without sandwich crime just HAPPENS?
Trainee: No.
Officer J: We worked for this. It hasn’t been easy. When I got started on this beat, you couldn’t walk down the street in Washington without having a grilled cheese shoved in your face, if you were lucky. Egg salad, if you weren’t.
Detective F: Not all the sandwiches were harmless. Some were clubs. People were too frightened of sandwiches to build a Subway in Georgetown.
Officer K: I still have a scar from when I took a meatball sub to the chin in ’96 and, afterward, got into an unrelated knife fight.
Officer J: I started here after transferring from the bread-crimes division in France. I spent decades hunting down a man who stole bread one time. My name is Javert, but that’s not important. His name was Jean Valjean. I also resented him because I had just the one name and he had two.
Trainee: That seems excessive.
Officer Javert: I think so too! One name is enough for anyone.
Trainee: Oh, I meant, chasing him for—
Officer Javert: Right. It was. It turned out what he needed was rehabilitation and a second chance, not me chasing him across France, singing. But we learned from it! We realized if we were proactive rather than reactive, if we got involved in the communities we served, we could figure out what was going on and stop it.
Detective F: Most sandwich crimes are crimes of opportunity. People who aren’t carrying sandwiches don’t tend to commit sandwich crimes. They do other types of crime. We took that statistic to the chief and said, “You’re sure you want us to go all in on eliminating sandwich crime? Not regular crime? Consider all the murders we could prevent if we just handed sandwiches to people who were about to do other crimes.” And they said, “No, solve sandwich crime.”
Detective F: Lunchables are a gateway.
Officer Javert: Teaching little kids to assemble their own sandwiches, as though it were play! We tackled all of that. We started from the bread up, tackling the root causes, and then the additional causes that were layered on top, and then any sauce that was on top of that.
Officer K: I remember when Mark Warner made what he claimed was a tuna melt. And everyone said, “Call the sandwich-crimes unit!”
Trainee: That was what started me down this path, sir. I saw it, and I knew it was an abomination, and I wanted to stop it.
Officer Javert: The point is, people trust us. We aren’t just police officers. We know the community we serve. We know how to deescalate. We look for non-carceral solutions. We ask: why would someone want to throw a sandwich? How can we fix that? We know who has beef and if that beef is corned.
Detective F: That didn’t happen overnight. We learned what to do: control the mayonnaise supply. And what to avoid: goofy, authoritarian displays of force.
Trainee: Most people don’t even know there’s such a thing as sandwich crime.
Officer K: Because no one has the urge.
Trainee: And that’s because of all your tireless work.
Officer Javert: You can’t just come in, on a whim—
Detective F: Or a caprese.
Officer Javert: —with troops! It’s not right! (stares at the TV and sighs) And they just—they ruined it all! They’re not stopping crime, regular or sandwich! They’re just making good people anxious to walk through their own neighborhoods. I’m so angry I could throw a good-size flatbread!
Detective F: (Gasps in horror) NO! You’ve been a mentor!
Officer Javert: With soft bread! A limp one, with the tomato already falling off! Just up into the air, not at any one in particular.
bOfficer K: Listen to yourself!
Officer Javert: No, you’re right. I take it ba—
Six heavily armed federal law-enforcement officers knock down the door, handcuff Javert, and start to haul him off.
Officer K: Please! He’s not carrying! And sandwiches aren’t weapons!
Federal enforcement: Sandwich crime is a federal crime.
They drag him away, sirens blaring.
Officer K: That’s way too many officers for a sandwich crime!
Trainee: I’m beginning to wonder if these people really care about solving sandwich crime at all.
The post Law and Order: Sandwich Crimes Unit appeared first on The Atlantic.
