Natasha and I got off the bus drunk. It was probably around 3 in the morning and as we crossed the road a cop car waiting at the red light turned on its red and blues. A bit stunned, we stopped, started, stopped, and proceeded to finish crossing. The cops swerved around a couple other cars and pulled up to us with the window down.
“What part of lights don’t you understand?” asked the one in the driver’s seat. He was a scary man. He had huge bags under his eyes and his mouth was made entirely out of downward pointies.
Wait, what did he ask? What part of lights don’t you understand?
“Uuuuuuhhhh… nuthin,” I responded.
“Well that’s for sure.” And then he sped off with his angry eyes popping out of his skull.