My name is Terry Smith. That's Detective to you, if you're an ass... and, today, I probably think you are, so hedge your bets. You see, my partner and I have been assigned a case that I feel is Batman Hell and I am forced to be a very poor Bruce Way...
I woke up on the couch. I was exhausted and I had a migraine comin' on.
I checked the workshop. There as no Jester outfit, but I did find a return note. It was not written in my handwritin'. I found that to be... disturbin', but somehow, not surprisin'. It said, "Not possible," and was on the back of my note about puttin' the transponder back to rights. Oh well, I guess I'd be gettin' a new one.
I hoped that the Jester would give me the night off after an exhaustin' day at work fightin' the migraine. I needed the sleep. As far as I knew, he was waitin' on the packages of electronics to arrive. My guess was that wouldn't happen until tomorrow. Regardless, I could tell I was goin' to be headin' to bed early.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I woke up in my own bed, feelin' much more rested than the day before. It was about time to head to the oncologist and find out about this tumor.
I turned on the news and saw that more protests about the tolls were goin' on. I didn't want to admit it, really, but if doin' somethin' about the tolls was really the Jester's plan, I had to say I approved. Nothin' like civil disobedience. But, again, he was ridin' the line between legal and illegal. There were such subtleties involved that I didn't know what we could possibly hold him on if he were someone else and we arrested him. Well, except for stealin' my car.
I wondered about my plea if I ever got caught. Certainly, I'm not entirely in my right mind; the Jester seems to have come about because of a brain tumor. So, while they might hold the Jester accountable, how could they hold me?
There as another sticky issue. How would they punish him for whatever crimes he was said to commit without also punishin' someone innocent? I mean, I could understand how they would conclude that removin' a murderer from society was more important than my, Terry's, innocence; I'd even agree to go to jail. But, what about when the "crimes" were on the level of suds and plastic ducks in a fountain? I didn't think I'd be willin' to give up my freedom for that.
At any rate, these are the things I contemplated as I drove to the doctor's office. I was glad I didn't have to go across the toll bridge, or face any tolls, because my transponder wasn't with me. I should go ahead and order a new one, I decided. I wasn't sure what to do, though, if they wanted the old one back.
Could I simply say it was stolen? That seemed unlikely... who would steal a transponder, but not the car? Maybe I could just say that I lost it? I don't know how that would happen, but I doubt they'd ask if I did it all online.
I was, in fact, checkin' out the state's website when the oncologist's nurse called my name. I went to meet my fate.
As soon as I walked in the door, the doctor smiled. "I take your smile as a good sign," I said, shakin' his hand.
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Smith. I feel fairly confident that I can remove the tumor, but we have to act fast."
I felt such a sense of relief, I nearly fell into the chair. "That's amazin' news. When?"
