Once upon a time,
there lived a cat named Bruce.
Bruce liked very much to annoy his caretakers,
but unbeknownst to them, behind the couch,
he had a motorcycle,
which he liked to ride when the girls were gone.
But he also secretly worked in cooperation
with the Forest Park Police Department!
One day, when Bruce was sitting in the front window,
checking the streets for potential crime,
an armored truck crashed through the Forest Park PD building,
which was right across the street from where he was sitting!
"Crap, the girls are still here," He thought to himself as pondered what to do next.
He would have to wait until the girls left the apartment,
and he would be safe to leave and aid the Police Department.
"Ouch, my foot!"
cried the Police Chief as the armored truck ran over his foot.
Finally, the last girl left the apartment,
and Bruce was finally able to
go out the door to the porch, climb down the tree, and run across the street to the Police Dept.
The other night when Laura and I went to Molly Malone's, we played the game where you go back and forth and tell a story, one line at time. This was the product of exhaustion, stress, and alcohol. Some of it (a lot of it) I made up because I didn't remember exactly what we said. The part about "Ouch my foot!" was when Laura actually hit her foot on the table. It was her turn to say a line of the story, so I thought that was her line. So I continued it with "cried the Police Chief as the armored truck ran over his foot." We laughed loudly and obnoxiously for a long time. It made my heart happy.