Mr. Brown seemed to be in for a lot of squealing that day, but he turned around to see a mysterious woman who was standing behind the police officers, brandishing a copy of George Eliot's Middlemarch, looking at the police officers-- and then at Mr. Brown-- menacingly.
She rolled up the paperback book, walked up to Mr. Brown, and began beating him mercilessly about the head.
Buddy, furious at the sight of his nemesis Mrs. Brown, latched onto her ankle in a death grip; Middlemarch, fluttering to the ground before the rowdy assemblage.
Poor choice of literature, I much prefer the classics, thought the police officer as he stood idyll by watching the commotion with a disinterested attitude.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, German Boss Herr O'in made The Call to his contact down at the station house...
So much for a degree in Latin mused the office sadly, as a dejectedly returned to his post.
Ms Otis, regretting have missed her lunch of meals on wheels usually delivered promptly at 1 pm, called the station house to reported a missing person, to whit, one Mr Brown.
"Yeah, we got a Mr. James Brown here", said the office dispatcher to Ms. Otis, "in fact, he and his wife are causing quite a scene in the strip search room as we speak."
Infuriated, Mrs. Brown kicked Buddy loose from her ankle and sent him sailing across the room...then, picking up her book, gave her husband another whack across the head while she was at it.
All the time yelling "Just who the hell is Miss Otis, and if you think she has regrets, just wait until I'm finished with you!"
Mr. Brown deftly grasped the book, wrenched it away from his bruising wife, and spoke formally, straightening his vest coat, "I have had quite enough, and will sue you all; some on multiple counts."
Mrs. Brown looked at the police officer, who looked at his cohorts, who looked at poor Buddy...and all of them simultaneously burst out in laughter at Mr. Brown's idle threat.
Buddy's laughter was particularly infectious, and soon the lot of them were rolling on the floor, giving Mr. Brown his chance.
Then, with a withering glare, she stalked from the room, blowing a kiss toward the young officer in the doorway.
The young officer felt a sudden need to grasp his nightstick.
The smell of nightblooming jasmine filled the Station House. Again. Officer Krupsky turned red, and lurched out to the lobby, where a dozen, no, fourteen teenaged girls carried five gallon pots of night blooming jasmine; the fifteenth had a scrolled paper which she proceeded to unfold....
"Are you ready for my close-up, officer Krupsky?"
"Why is she following me around the forum"? Cav wondered, as Suzy lurched in behind him on yet another thread. Is Officer Krupsky about to get lucky, she mused?
Then she decided to go to bed rather than ruin the story with her perversions.
heh heh
"what's this here thing for?" asked officer Krupsky. "Nothing" said Suzy, "It's something I learned over in England."
Mr Brown reached for his shorts and trousers.
