The plane is circling that airport at Memphis, Tennessee, where Ervin and I will no doubt continue our adventures in pursuit of the, well, evil Mickey Snaketail.  What was the name of that—, oh yes, the pilot just said the name of the airport for me: Memphis International Airport.
 
(So many countries can afford planes now.  — And some of them fly to Memphis!)
 
Well, I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to be about to awaken Ervin with a curious noise, but first I thought I’d post Part III of my tele-, well, script that I wrote for the most successful cop show on television, Perp & Vic: Men Are Bastards Unit.
 
As you may recall, our two cops — the female de, um, tective named Parkdrive, and the male detective, Redhook — had just found, well caught a young boy named Marty at Planned Parenthood!  The boy was there to get an, um, slip, well, note from the Planned ‘hood ladies saying that he had gotten some sex of the mouthular variety from his lady science teacher, but that he did not enjoy the sexing.  Did not, you know?
 
So.  Um.  When we left off the two detectives were about to take Marty down to police headquarters and take his statement.  They were also going to call in his parents, so they could appri—, well, info—, well, tell them that a round-bottomed science teacher had recently relieved their fifteen year-old boy of a specific kind of tension.
 

Parkdrive, Redhook, and Marty are in an interrogation room at police headquarters.  There is that big one-way mirror on one wall and, um, a door and a big table for bad cop to pound on.
 
Right this moment Marty is seated at the table and Parkdrive and Redhook are standing nearby and drinking coffee.
 
PARKDRIVE:  Coffee Marty?
 
MARTY: N-no ...
 
Redhook moves into Marty’s personal space.
 
REDHOOK:  Got a problem with coffee, Marty?
 
MARTY:  Are you going to ask me questions or something?
 
PARKDRIVE:  We’re waiting for your folks, Marty.  You don’t mind telling your folks about how you broke Jesus’ heart with the science teacher, do you?
 
MARTY:  No!  You can’t tell them!
 
Parkdrive and Redhook laugh avunc—, well, good-naturedly.
 
REDHOOK:  Don’t worry, Marty, we told them how it was all the teacher’s fault and that you didn’t like it.  We promised them.
 
MARTY: Really?
 
PARKDRIVE:  We were very convincing.  And your mom was pretty quick to believe.
 
REDHOOK:  Oh yeah, she was quick.  But I don’t know about your old man, Marty.  He seemed to suspect you might like it.
 
Parkdrive sits in a chair beside Marty.
 
PARKDRIVE: How about that, Marty?  Sounds like your Dad knows you pretty well.
 
MARTY: No!  He’s wrong ... honest.  It made me feel all gross and sloppy ...
 
REDHOOK:  Afterward.
 
MARTY:  Huh?
 
REDHOOK:  You felt all gross and sloppy afterward.
 
MARTY:  Y-yeah ...
 
PARKDRIVE:  What about while it was going on, Marty?  How’d you feel then?  Gross?
 
REDHOOK:  Or was it more like, “Oh.  Mama.  Gimme, gimme, gimme!”
 
At that moment, CAPTAIN FRUND enters with Marty’s parents, HESTER LACRAM, 43, and MUNCE LACRAM, 48.  Hester is an obese, round, well, blob of a female wearing a pants suit with a round button on the lapel.  One of those, um, closeups on the pin?  One of those closeups on the pin could show that it says, “Hucka-Oh!”  Munce has a flag lapel pin and a spot of ketchup on the corner of his lip.
 
Hester sees Marty and goes to him with, well, enthusiasm.
 
HESTER: Marty!
 
MARTY: Mommy!
 
CAPTAIN FRUND (to Parkdrive and Redhook):  I’ll leave you here with Mr. and Mrs. LaCram.
     (confidentially)
And try not to eat their biscuits this time.  All right Redhook?
 
REDHOOK (still dealing with a painful memory):  Jesus ...
 
PARKDRIVE:  Captain ...
 
FRUND (to Parkdrive):  And you.  You better start thinking about what’s right for us older cops and not just your hot-headed partner here.
 
REDHOOK:  But --
 
FRUND:  Stow it, ‘Hook.  While you’re trying to set me straight there’s a science teacher out there showing teenage boys the slurpy jam-jam.  Now let’s see if you can’t get some answers out of these LaCrams.
 
He abruptly turns and leaves.
 
Parkdrive and Redhook approach the LaCrams.  They are seated next to each other at the interrogation table in three chairs:  Hester in the middle, with Marty on one side and Munce on the other.  Hester holds Marty’s head to her, well, bosom with one hand while wiping the ketchup off Munce’s lip with a piece of tissue paper in the other hand.  Munce sees Parkdrive staring at him and pulls away from his wife.
 
MUNCE (nervous laugh):  Ketchup.
 
PARKDRIVE (disgusted):  Yeah.  So why is it wifey’s job to squirrel it off your lips?
 
Munce shakes his head because that question was, well, something quite, um, heathen to ask, I suppose is the right word.  Heathen, you know?
 
MUNCE:  Don’t you read your Bible?
 
PARKDRIVE:  I know a guy who reads it.  That ... that’s the book where the men wear robes, right?  And some of them fish?
 
REDHOOK:  What’s your point, LaCram?
 
MUNCE:  It’s just that if you knew your scripture you’d know it’s the wife’s duty to submit graciously to her husband.
 
PARKDRIVE:  Submit ... what?!
 
HESTER:  He’s right.  That’s what General Huckabee says.
 
MUNCE:  Governor Huckabee.
 
Pause.
 
MUNCE (continued):  I said, “Governor Huckabee.”  Ya hear?  Wife?
 
HESTER (graciously):  Yes, husband.
 
PARKDRIVE:  Why you — !  I gotta good mind to eat your biscuits!
 
Redhook pulls Parkdrive aside.
 
REDHOOK (to the LaCrams):  Excuse us.
 
PARKDRIVE:  Why’re you holding me back?!
 
REDHOOK:  Look, Parkdrive, I’m thinking we should take this one case at a time.  Get the science teacher off her knees first, then come back and bust this Huckadroid.  Besides