"I'm going to guess the
puzzle, Pat!" You shout gamely, just as if you'd been paying the
slightest bit of attention.
"Is it 'The Cops Do Not Bathe'?"
A buzzer probably sounds since your answer is wrong, but you can't hear
it over the deafening roar of bootheels as about a bajillion uniformed
LAPD policemen explode from the backstage! You've never seen so much
Bacon, there's more fuzz here than on the inappropriately exposed body
of that guy who propositioned you in the men's room at Waffle Hut last
week, and every single one of them is in a beatin' mood on account of
your questioning their hygiene regimen!
They're all coming toward you and your mind drifts back to your seventh
birthday and the time you threw a rock at a wasps nest just to see what
would happen.
Maybe it's head trauma
talking as your skull caves in, but 'Baton' is a funny word, isn't it?
'Baton', that's what sexy little drum majorette's in skin tight spandex
throw up in the air, isn't it? What could an innocent old 'baton' have
to do with your left kidney getting turned into gazpacho?
Rodney King got off
easy compared to what you're getting. You're in Abner Louima territory now
and that's just for starters. If your very lucky they'll let you off at
Terry Schiavo town. But you know what? Your luck hasn't been very good
so far. What makes you think it's going to change now?
