Myth-Nomers & Im-Pervections by Robert Asprin

“I’m stone cold sober,” I interrupted, thanking my lucky stars for Kalvin’s assistance. “If you don’t believe it, test me.”

“There are a lot of witnesses who said you were falling down drunk in the bar.”

“I tripped over a chair.”

“Then there’s the minor matter of Assault . . .”

“I keep telling you, they attacked me! It was self-defense!”

“. . . And Destruction of Private Property . . .”

“For cryin’ out loud, it was a garbage can! I’ll pay for a new one if that’s . . .”

“. . . And, of course, there’s Resisting Arrest.”

“I asked them where we were going. That’s all.”

“That’s not the way the arresting officers tell it.” Realizing I was getting nowhere in this argument, I did the next most logical thing: I took out my frustration on an innocent bystander. In this case, the nearest available target happened to be J.R., who seemed to be dozing off in his chair.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I demanded. “You’re in this too, you know.”

“There’s no need,” the street vendor shrugged. “It’s not like we were in trouble or anything.”

“That’s funny. I thought we were in a police station.”

“So what? They aren’t really serious. Are you. Captain?” The Pervect who had been arguing with me shot him a dark look, but I noticed he didn’t contradict what had been said.

“I’ll bite J.R.,” I said, still watching the captain. “What are you seeing that I’m not in this situation?”

“It’s what isn’t happening that’s the tip-off,” he winked. “What isn’t happening is we aren’t being booked. We’ve been here a long time and they haven’t charged us with any crimes.”