I came up for air. “Sorry, it’s gone.”
“I’m sure she has another set.” We ran inside to find Madame Kiska. She was rubbing her tits in that geek’s face. We interrupted the floor show to ask about the keys; she cracked her whip at the interruption but realized what we said.
“No, I don’t have another set. Why the hell did you guys do that?” We explained the story again. “These are real cops handcuffs.” Panicking, she lifted Rocky’s wrist. LAPD was engraved on the side.
“Shit, dude, I heard only cops have the master key.” I shook my head.
“We can’t go to the cops. They’ll ask me where I got them from!”
“Where did you get them from?” The three of us asked.
“Long story. My ex, pimp, whatever you want to call him, was in the LAPD.”
“So you stole them?” Elijah asked.
“Stole, borrowed, same difference.” She looked panicked.
“I don’t give a god damn fuck about you, woman. I need these cuffs off and YOU are coming with us to the police station.”
An hour later the four of us entered the police station. The handcuffee, the Madame, Elvis and me dressed in normal attire but still soaking wet from my dive in the pool.
“So what can I help you gentlemen and Madame with tonight?” the cop behind the desk asked.
Elijah spoke first. “We kinda handcuffed my friend.”
“Uh huh, so why not get a pair of bolt cutters?” the cop questioned.
We looked at each other, neither one of us wanting to talk. Rocky broke the silence.
“Um, they kinda belong to the LAPD...”
The cop walked around the desk and lifted Rocky’s wrist. “Do you realize it’s a federal offence to steal property from the police?”
“Yes, sir,” we answered with our heads bowed.
“Who do they belong to?”
The three of us swung our heads to face whatever her name was. She remained silent until she caved under our glare.
“Mine, but I can explain,” she mumbled.
“Go ahead.”
She explained the story, the cop barely buying it. We were in deep shit, I mean neck-deep in shit.
“You know that you should be all doing a night behind bars for this offence?” His tone was deadly serious.
Oh fuck. The slammer? Fucking Rocky and Elijah. This was not on my bucket list. I could see the sweat dripping off Rocky and Elijah’s foreheads. If it wasn’t for the alcohol I probably would be shitting bricks as well.
“Do you think this is the first time I have seen this?” asked the cop.
“Uh, no sir, I mean yes, sir…” Rocky answered nervously.
“Well, which one is it?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
The cop laughed, shaking his head. “You out-of-towners are no different from the rest of them.”