Today I went on a ridealong with Officer Small Mouse. — In case this advanced terminology is confusing to the gentle reader, I should explain that “ridealong” is what we Minnesotans call it when a policewoman pulls up before you in her squad cruiser when you’re a child and asks you if you’d like to ride along with her for the day, as she intends to visit a number of Federal Judges and help them out.
So today I went on a ridealong with Officer Small Mouse. She is a very beautiful woman in her mid-thirties with cute hair and cute ears.
“Hi Bryan!” she said.
“Hi,” I said.
“Care to ride along?” she said.
“Sure,” I said.
Our first stop was the house of Federal Judge Ko-Ko. He opened his front door in his long black robe and invited us in.
“Officer Small Mouse, welcome,” Judge Ko-Ko said.
“This is my friend Bryan,” said Small Mouse. And I shook Judge Ko-Ko’s hand.
“Pleased to meet you, young man,” said Judge Ko-Ko. “Welcome. Enter.”
Officer Small Mouse and I stepped in, looked left and right; then headed straight to the far wall, where there was standing a wooden bureau that had many narrow drawers. Officer Small Mouse showed Judge Ko-Ko how the second drawer from the left on the bureau’s top row contained a secret compartment — she opened this up, and it revealed a banknote, which Small Mouse handed to the judge.
Federal Judge Ko-Ko’s eyes grew wide, and he exclaimed: “Paper money!”
“It was probably put there by whoever owned this bureau prior to you,” Officer Small Mouse said with a smile.
We left Federal Judge Ko-Ko feeling very happy that morning. After saying a long goodbye, we got into our police car.
“Bry, do me a favor: Grab that notebook on the dashboard — find the heading ‘Distress Calls’ and tell me our next stop,” said Officer Small Mouse.
Our next destination was the manor house of Federal Judge Oro-Wow-Ha.
A Devlin (that is, a type of mechanical manservant) opened the door.
“Butler, take us to your master,” said Officer Small Mouse. And we all headed into the vestibule.
It turned out that Judge Oro-Wow-Ha possessed a houseplant with leaves fanning out from it that were obscenely large and gorgeously curvaceous. Officer Small Mouse taught me how to use a soft cloth to apply a type of natural oil to these leaves, which left them glistening with greenness.
Federal Judge Oro-Wow-Ha now appeared walking down the hallway from his bedroom wearing his majestic black robe, in the cool of the evening. This happened precisely at the moment when I had finished oiling the houseplant’s final leaf.
“Ooh! Lovely!” exclaimed the judge.
We all exchanged brief, friendly hugs, and then Officer Small Mouse and I left for our next Distress Call.
“Got the notebook?” said Officer Small Mouse, from the driver seat of our squad car.
“Sure do,” said I, scrolling down the list of names with my finger until I found the next address that we needed to visit. “Thirty-nine twenty-two, Curled Bangs Avenue — It’s the Federal Judge Mee-Mee-Jah-Jah.
Officer Small Mouse’s head whipped over and stared at me as if she had heard the name of a very powerful ghost. She jutted her arm out and said “Let me see that notebook.”
I handed her the list; and she eyed it with intense interest, while speeding down the street without watching the road (but we didn’t hit anybody, even tho there was quite a lot of traffic, and pedestrians were bustling about and jaywalking everywhere) — “Wow,” she whispered to herself, “Judge Mee-Mee-Jah-Jah.”
“What’s the deal?” I asked innocently while she passed back the notebook.
“Federal Judge Mee-Mee-Jah-Jah is the most powerful man in the world.”
“Are you serious?” I said.
Officer Small Mouse turned and looked at me with a serious expression; then she nodded and replied: “Absolutely.”
I looked back down at the list in the notebook and eventually remarked: “It sez here that he lost his lizard — our task is to find it.”
Officer Small Mouse, still looking at me with that very serious face, exclaimed “The man has lost more than his lizard — he’s lost his MIND.”
At that instant, while my crime-fighting mentor was still staring at me intensely, she brought our cop car to a halt before a brown rambler-style home. In the midground of her driver-side window appeared a sign: “3922 Curled Bangs Ave.”
We entered the residence by way of its garage, which had been left open. Officer Small Mouse and I both ignited our police-flashlights, as the first few rooms that we lurked thru were shrouded in despair. Eventually we arrived at the study — that is, we arrived at the area of the house that was designed for reading and writing. There, before stacks of books and papers at his mahogany desk, stood Judge Mee-Mee-Jah-Jah. He was weeping.
“What’s wrong, Your Honor?” said Officer Small Mouse compassionately. “Do you need inspiration? Perhaps you’re feeling the anxiety of influence—”
“I HAVE LOST MY BELOVED LIZARD!!” the Federal Judge roared out like a god. His voice resembled the noise of mighty waters rushing — like a thunderstorm of teardrops.
We paced forward, after holstering our flashlights, and squeezed his arms thru the fabric of his black robe, to comfort him. I dared to improvise a line that was not even in the script, at this moment: “Don’t worry; we’ll help you find him.”
So Officer Small Mouse and I looked high and low for that reptile. I climbed a ladder so that I could view the top of the ceiling fan, in case the thing was hiding on one of its blades. We even checked all the drawers of the judge’s wooden bureau, including the hidden secret compartment. But this produced no results.
Finally, I went out back to the pleasure garden and wandered around by its luxurious fountain that consisted of a pyramid of chalices perpetually overflowing with champagne… And, there on the ground nearby, I spotted the lizard! — he was basking in the sunlight, observing a spear of summer grass.
“Hey, friend, come closer — I won’t hurt you,” I held out my hand, while crouching down and making the “draw nigh” motion with my fingers, over and over, slowly and hypnotically.
Soon the lizard scrambled up to me and stood on my shoulder. I then carefully walked back to the judge’s chambers and announced “The verdict is in: our man is NOT GUILTY!”
Federal Judge Mee-Mee-Jah-Jah was overjoyed that I had helped him find his lost lizard. He rewarded me with the future’s Chinese-Russian equivalent of an annual salary of $75,000 U.S. dollars — for life! Can you believe that! (Now I can pursue a career in art!)
“Dang, you’re good, Bryan,” said Officer Small Mouse, when she learned that I had discovered the judge’s pet lizard lying lazily in his backyard. “You’ll make a decent rookie cop. Gadzooks, I wish that I myself had been the one to locate the creature’s whereabouts. But, that’s the breaks — I guess I’ll just have to figure out how to become a famous author while relying on my police pension to support me, when I retire.”
So, as a gesture of solidarity, I split my reward in half and shared it with Officer Small Mouse. And, in the afterlife, everything did indeed turn out fine.
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