It was a hot night in August and all I wanted to do was sit in the unit and soak up everything the air conditioner could throw at me.  But, some things just aren't to be.  I cringed when the call came in.

"1-3-6.  Reported burglary in progress.  Suspect believed to be still on scene."

The dispatcher called for backup while partner and I hurried to the location of the call.  I was hoping the alleged felon had at least burglarized an air conditioned building but, of course, he didn't.  We arrived quietly, checked the surrounding area and tried to determine if he had left or was still inside.  There was no way to tell for sure until we had entered and cleared the building.  So, I was slithering through as quietly as I could considering my heart was pounding like Z. Z. Top in a bathtub and sweat was running into my eyes by the buckets.  I reached the end of a hallway and peeked around the corner only to find that the suspect was standing about 2 feet from me.  I was in a pickle.  He hadn't heard me yet but if I moved in any direction, he was likely to.  And if he had a gun, things were going to get as lively as fleas in Osama bin Laden's beard.

There was no way to maneuver so I slowly raised my gun barrel to his head and said, "Police!  Don't move!"  And that's when I heard it.

"Phhhthththththththbtbtbtbb!"

What was that sound?  Did someone puncture a basketball?  Deflate the Hindenburg?  But, that's when the smell hit me and suddenly, sweat wasn't the only thing burning my eyes.  I was dizzy and my head was tingling.  I put my hand to my face and found that my eyebrows had fallen out.  Being the optimist I am, I thought maybe it might be a good look for me.  It wasn't.

"Dang, Stinkweed!" I said.  "What have you been eating?!"

I guess partner had heard the commotion and came to the door to see if he could assist.

"Is that you Kelly?  I thought I recognized the smell."

"Bite me!" I said.  "Come in and help me get this guy handcuffed."

"I'm not coming in there.  That's a haz-mat scene if I've ever smelled one.  Bring him out here."

I got the guy outside and we got him cuffed without any trouble.  We just had to be careful what we touched.  But partner smiled.

"Hey, love the eyebrow thing,  All you need now is a construction worker, a cowboy and an Indian Chief."

"Bite me...twice!"

It was the best I could come up with while not breathing.  Brain cells die easily you know.  Especially mine.  The next step was transport and I knew it was going to be a problem.

"Who's going to take him in?" I asked.

"He's not riding in my car," Farmer responded.

"Well, he's not riding in mine!  That thing in his pants could knock down a castle wall."

The odiferous felon used this opportunity to interrupt.

"I need a bathroom!"

"Shut up!"

"Listen," I said.  "I took the one-legged wino last week.  It's your turn."

"No, no, no, no, no.  It'll take two generations to get that smell out of the upholstery.  This guy's worth three winos and a hollywood director.  And maybe an unemployed screen writer to boot."

"I've got to float a log!  Bad!"

"Shut up!"

"Okay," I said.  "We'll flip for it."

Come on.  You knew I was going to lose.  But, that's alright.  I gave Farmer a few days to drop his guard, then snuck over to his house and shaved his cat.  This would be my first encounter with a police psychologist.

He looked at the report and asked, "Are you crazy?"

"Of course I am."

"Good enough for me.  I appreciate your honesty.  And I never liked that stupid cat anyway.  I'll tell you what.  You can go back to work if you'll loan me those clippers.  My wife has this yapping poodle.  I think a ChiaPet look is in order here."

"I've got some green dye left over from the alligator incident if you want it.  Don't ask."

"I wouldn't dream of it.  Hey!  I wonder how my wife would look in a Mohawk?  She'll be sleeping with Prince Prozac tonight so that ought to give me an edge."

"I'm proud of you doc," I said.  "You actually need more help than I do.  Here's my card.  Call me.  We'll talk."

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