"So, this particularly handsome, muscular constable was the one who got me undressed, without another cop present, which was against the rules, and when I said something he simply barked that they were short staffed and he didn't want to have to leave any bruises on me. Well, let's just say, that he liked what he saw, and promised that all charges against me would be dropped if I promised to be his personal blow boy. I trust that I won't have to explain that to anyone here. So, once a week, at night, each time at a different location, he would pick me up in a car, blindfold me and order me to lie low in the back seat. Then we would go to his apartment where he could do whatever he wanted to do with me. Then he would drive me back to a different location, where he would drop me off. But even at the beginning, I began to memorize his license plate, and after the third try, I entered it into the system and came up with his name, Michael Crawley, and the exact address of his Metrotown apartment in Burnaby. Within twenty-four hours he got a phone call from my editor. He never bothered me again.
"But, as luck would have it, a couple of years later, my darling mother called the cops on me..."
"Come on, Michael", she says, "I came home to find the front door open, and you had forgotten to close it for some reason, what else was I supposed to do."
"No worries, Mommy dearest, all is forgiven, So, one of the four cops who came in to fetch me from the bedroom on the third floor, where I was taking a nap, was none other than Officer Crawley. Of course I said hi to him!"
Michael, digs his fork into his slice of pie with ice cream, and while holding it suspended in front of his mouth, says, "Any questions...?"
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