Like Totally

Mr. Conen

The office was small and cozy, fit for only one person and a guest: criminal, worker associate. But that's exactly what it's for. So I'm fine with it in that case.

"Hello, please have a seat." He leans back in his chair and crosses his fingers. They crack in the process. I hate that noise.

"You will be going here," he points to a park on the map on his desk. "And you are aloud to drink. If they offer you something to drink, you take it. Unless you know it's drugs." He completes his sentence. I'm not ready to drink, but if that's what I need to do then so it be.

I'm not much of even drinking soda, considered it's bad for your bones and teeth. So I'll try, I guess.

"I'm ready, and I understand." I reply confidentially. Trying to act like I'm actually over the drinking age limit.

"Good, your time to leave is in a half hour. We-I will drive you down there behind an alley so no one knows our plan. Until then, stay in my office and call me... oh yeah, Mr. Conen." Okay I guess. If that's what he wants then so it be, again.

There isn't much to do around here except maybe look at the map and study yourself. Which could be a good idea, you never know.

I study myself on the capitals of states until Mr. Conen comes back and tells me to get up and follow him.

"My car is small and it echoes your words, so shut up in there okay?" He practically demands of me. So I have no other choice than to say, "Okay." And I was quiet until a red light. Forgetting the rules.

"How long will I be out here?" I ask. I do need to know. He looks at me and then realized it was right of me to ask.

"We have a camera EVERYWHERE! And there is a chip in your boots that will say where you are. Shake your boot to activate the chip and we will know it's done or your on." He looks back at the road, but I don't have boots. Then I realize there are a pair of boots sitting next to me. I guess I need to put them on me before I leave.

And when we finally do get there, he says to hurry up or people will be suspicious. I grab the boots and say goodbye.

That guy, Mr. Conen, was a nice guy. I just don't understand why they want me to help them bust the drug dealer. I only solved one little case, well big since murder, but still.

Mr. Conen probably expects me to get the guy. Expects me to do great things for the station. And that's my goal I need to achieve. I hope I can.

"Goodbye!" I shout to the now leaving police car, and he puts on his sirens so people would think someone was just getting arrested.

Smart, clever, funny. All wrapped in one, that thing was.