Saturday, 1:00 PM, The Police Station

Fritz

The police station is just about as dismal and depressing as you think it might be. They have me handcuffed, sitting on a bench for a good hour before anyone remembers that I'm there. This gives me ample time to mull over a variety of things. For example, why I wanted that helmet in the first place. Second, where the hell did Ted go? Finally, if they offer me a phone call, who should I make it too. Oh, and yeah, why do they think I need to be handcuffed.

I'm still sore from that headlock. If only I'd had time to ditch the stuff in my pockets.

The phone rings and the officer at the desk picks it up.
"You Fritz Canty?" he asks.
"Yes, sir," I respond.
"You are free to go. Let me take those cuffs off."

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

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Who's where

Gil

Ted

Lindsay

Leisl