Please note: this is 100% fiction!

“All right, explain yourself, mister.” The officer removed the cuffs from his wrist and leaned against the metal interrogation table. He shrugged. “Well?” He raised his head slightly and gazed at the officer with the most convincing puppy-dog eyes he could muster. The officer leaned close until she was an inch from his eyes. “Don’t you do this to me, it won’t work.”

Still, he continued.

“Fine,” the officer said, heading for the door, “I’m going to lock you in here to let you think about what you’ve done.”

What he’d done was getting caught at the wrong place at the wrong time. His friends had framed him, making him hold their paint cans while they spray-painted the walls, drawing strange devil cats and writing incomprehensible messages next to their drawings. He’s not a bad kid, he’s just unlucky.

The door was wrenched open, making him jump. “You’ve been sprung. Get out of here.” He sat where he was, feeling disbelief and unable to move, that’s lucky, he thought. “NOW!”

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