Slowly Fading Fast.

Since these blogs are printed Chronologically, you might want to read the last post before this one in order to get part one of this story, in case that is too much work, here's a brief synopsis....

Previously, on Daub von Daub;
Theorizing that one could time-travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Daub von Daub led an elite group of scientists into the desert to develop a top secret project known as Quantum Leap. Pressured to prove his theories or lose funding, Dr. Daub von Daub prematurely stepped into the project accelerator... and vanished. He awoke to find himself in the past, suffering from partial amnesia and facing a mirror image that was not his own. Fortunately, contact with his own time was maintained through brainwave transmissions with Al, the project observer, who appeared in the form of a hologram that only Dr. Daub von Daub can see and hear. Trapped in the past, Dr. Daub von Daub finds himself leaping from life to life, putting things right that once went wrong and hoping each time that his next leap would be the leap home.

And now the conclusion....

Where was I...oh yeah the lesbian police officers.

So there we are, Chris and I talking on the curb, awaiting our Friend Brian's return with a car. Oh yeah, I guess I missed that point, Brian ran into us some time after the guy in the house threatened us, and before the pigs arrived. He said he would go get his car and come back for us, so we were just waiting for that to happen when the cop car showed up.

The lights come on, the spot light goes from me to Chris, and finally to Even, nonchalantly passed out in the gutter of the road a few feet away. The single light turns into three, as the cops pull out there flashlights. The "hot" one, shines her flashlight in my face and approaches, the bull dyke, stays at a safe distance, with her hand on her gun.

The flashlight moves from my face to Chris, then to Even.

"What's going on here?" the hot cop asks.

"Nothing, just waiting for our ride," I tell her.

"What's wrong with that guy?" she asked indicating Evan's lifeless form.

"He's drunk," I say.

"Why are his pants down around his ankles?" She asks.

Ehherrrrrrrt! His pants were down because he was fighting us the whole time we were carrying him, and he's super skinny so his pants just worked themselves off. Of course all I can think of to say is;

"They fell off," I go to get up to pull them up for him, when all Hell Breaks loose, both cops draw their guns and start yelling,

"Get back on the ground, hands where I can see them! (followed unintelligible screaming)"

"I was just...I was just gonna put his pants back on....ok I'm sitting back down."

At this point they calm down some,and the Bull Dyke walks over to Evan and starts trying to wake him up asking him questions, "Do you know these guys? Are you ok, what have they done to you?"

It is at this point that my alcohol addled wits finally do the math and realize what these two cops think is going on...

"Whoa! Hold it, we're just trying to get him home...his pants fell off while we were carrying him, we're not trying to rape him.."

"Sit down, now!" there is a gun in my face and I sit down.

"Do you know these guys?" Evan's questioning continues...and somehow he grabs onto some sort of coherence...

"Those guythss...yeah, I know them...they're fabulous!" Evan says and then goes back to sleep.

The cop looks up from Evan and asks us, "If you're trying to get him home, why are you just sitting here?"

"My friend is coming to get us with his car."

Meanwhile the other cop has gone to the house behind us to talk to the guy inside. She comes back out and asks us what happened. And this is where Chris and I's tactics in dealing with pigs differs. His dad was a cop, so he knows better than to lie, I just start lying out of habit.

"uh, what do you mean?" I said.

"This guy inside says you threatened him."

"Threatened? No, he said he was going to come out and kick our asses (which was technically true) and I told him that he was welcome to."

"He said you called him names."

"Names, like what?"

"He said you called him a pussy, and a motherfucker."

I start laughing. Like Butthead in health class. The cop just said it with such a dry expression, it was hilarious.

"What do you think is so funny?"

I stop laughing, suddenly serious.

"No, mam, I would uh never do that."

"Well he called us fearing you were going to beat him up."

What a pussy, I thought again.

This is when Chris pipes in, "Yeah we called him a pussy, he was telling us to be quiet and we're drunk, he threatened to come out here and fight us, and we told him to come try."

I started, "That's not how--"

I'm silenced by a flashlight in my face, "You sit down and be quiet, you're obviously full of shit, don't talk." I sit down and start wondering what the charges will be when I'm put in the slammer. Public intoxication. Threatening bodily harm. Uncooperative attitude. Attempted Sodomy of a redhead.

The two cops take our ID's and start talking on their radios and leave us to stew in our own thoughts. At this point, Brian returns with his car (he is pretty drunk too) and pulls over. One of the cops goes over and talks to him. Luckily his arrival corroborates our story and their fears of our molesting the skinny kid are alleviated.

The cops come back over to us, sitting on the curb, hand us our ID's.

"I want you to apologize to the man inside the house," the hot one says.

so I turn and yell, "I'm sorry you're such a pussy, dude!"

"no...hey...look at me, go to the door and apologize to him, or you're going to jail."

So I get up, escorted by the cop, to this assholes door. HE opens it, and what a surprise, he's a dreadlock hippie, my most hated enemy! He smells like a dog's butthole and he has a pot leaf tattoo on his arm.

"Hey man, I'm sorry I got so drunk and was being loud outside your house." I gave the cop a look that told her that was the best she was going to get.

"Ok dude, thanks," he told me. I turned and left, not waiting for my escort.

I returned to the curb, Chris and Brian were getting Evan into the car.

"The next time this happens, call a cab, and tell him to buy a belt," the short haired cop told me.

"He has a belt on , now, " I told her.

She did not think that was funny.

end transmission.