Why Are They Still Using This Thing?

“No.”

Aw, c’mon Fox! Please?

“We’ve been over this!”

But I gawt a new one!

“I caught this slimy wad of bubble-gum. Red-handed. He was in the office, the safe was open, the file was sitting on the desk! That’s not red-handed, that’s bathing in ketchup!”

An we’re all real grateful for it, but can’t we just-

“Jeopardize my rock-solid open-and-shut case by bringing in ridiculous pseudoscience perpetuated by quacks? Again? No. No we can’t. I do the interrogation, my way.”

But he said he’d sign any testimony dat we put together usin’ it!

“That’s because he knows any competent lawyer would have it laughed out of court inside of three seconds!”

But

“Officer, are you making Puppy Eyes at me?”

Well I tried every damn thing else!

Ugh. “Fine. But I ask the questions.”

You’re not posing for a calender, Slick Smitty. Stop that.

Uh, thanks for, uhuh, getting me outa that, that cell, there. The, uh, the, uhuhuh, rat in the, uh, altogether was really not my idea of, uh, pleasant company.

“Oh, so you’ve met Reeky.”

Uh, that’s a pretty apt, uhuh, nickname, officer.

“It would be, if it was a nickname. But that’s what it says on his birth certificate.” The bulldog leads him over to the stool and starts strapping ridiculous little wires to him.

Can’t you, uh, give him some, uh, clothes?

“Well, I dunno.” I notice the duck rolling his eyes at me. “See, Mr. Rat nourishes, from time to time, ambitions of breaking into the film industry. Isn’t that right?”

You can’t oppress me, man! I will, like, overcome your puritan bourgeoisie-sie moral ideology! shouts something naked in the cells.

“Yeah, lemme know how that goes.” I turn back to the bald monkey, who looks less cocky now. “Seems he very unwisely scheduled a… well, let’s call it an audition right at the same time me and the boys were gonna raid the smut operation. Not a smart move, really.”

But, uh, couldn’t have you have, uh, given him some clothes or something, uh, I mean.

“That’d be cruel and unusual punishment. To the innocent clothes, I mean. Besdies, he’s the one took him off of his own free will. Why should I risk losing my lunch to keep his tail from freezing, cause that’s what’d happen if I had to go give him an outfit.”

Like, don’t lay your hang-ups on me, man! mutters the cell.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t want to put anything of mine on you, or anywhere near you!” I shout at that dirty rat. Then I shoot the dirty primate a toothy grin, “Still, I owe him. If it wasn’t for him shouting his head off about his rights being oppressed, I woulda never gone upstairs to get the files, and I woulda never found you rooting through the archives looking for your criminal record.” Now he’s really nervous. Good. “So. Let’s get started. Do you or do you not claim to be one–what’s it say?–Slick Smitty, you filthy, disgusting, hairless lowlife-”

I’m still talking when every part of the lie detector that could conceivably go off does go off. Sounds like someone dropped the circus down the stairs.

I protest! he shouts over the din, This, uh, this thing is pseudoscience perpetuated by, uh, by uh, quacks!

Here now! squawks the deputy, We’re makin’ racial slurs now, then?

I, uhuh, didn’t mean you! If this were a cartoon, sweat drops’d be visibly flying from his scalp in neat little trajectories. The detector goes off again. This, uh, thing, this is useless! I refuse to be, uhuh, subjected to this one second more! Yeah!

“Good.” I yank the plug, and suddenly it’s all quiet. “Because you owe me some answers. Take him to the interrogation room, boys.”

He looks dazed as they pull him to his feet. He knows I won, but he doesn’t understand how. Ah well. The day I can’t outwit a brainless pinkie I might as well hang up the cape. “Guess your little toy is good for something after all. Now never make me use it again.”

I shoot the guy another fangy grin on his way out, but somehow he doesn’t look reassured.

The Final Word.

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