After a five minute pow-wow the two officers split up. The second officer went back to his cruiser, pulled away from the curb and disappeared into the night. Constable Shithead entered into the driver’s seat of our cruiser and started the engine.
“What’s happening?” I asked anxiously through the plexi-glass divider on the back of his seat that stood between us.
“Shut up!” he barked with what I had come to recognize as his usual charm. He accelerated the cruiser away from the curb and drove off down the road heading to the outskirts of town with the dash cluster casting a dim blue light upon his visage the side of which I could see over his right shoulder.