A Shot of Love
by Chip Amore
Say Jailer, what we all charged with?
Do you mean, in addition to bad grammar? Well, son, the charges are down at the courthouse being sorted, typed, and quite frankly, marveled at. That was some night.
In that case, sir, I would like to make my one phone call.
You used that when you ordered pizzas and beer for the cell block, including the guards. You then tipped heavy and put the entire bill on Sandy Shield's tab. It was a nice touch.
How will I contact my lawyer then, sir?
Turn around, isn't he the tall fellow asleep on the cot behind you?
Would it be too much of an imposition to ask for a brief overview of last nights activities?
Perhaps, just the high points. Maybe, the number of PCGC members under your hospitality or a rough estimate of the property damage? One more thing, is the fat kid with the wings and the "I heart John Jurgins" tattoo who I think he is? It began, like it so often does, innocently enough. You, Blue Moon, Billy the Web, Hildie, and about 13 others were at the grill toasting Cupid and his life's work. Somewhere between toasts 51 and 64, as near as we can tell, the chubby cherub went behind the bar to mix a new "love potion". He then dipped his arrows in the mixture. According to legend, the first thing an arrow touches after hitting you becomes your "true love". Well, little britches decided it would be great sport to try out his new batch on the neighboring wedding party. His first shot hit our very grumpy DA and a serious, shapely something 25 years his junior. He then hit the groom's aunt and a dessert cart. The maid of honor was hit just after the ring bearing dog. Several golfers were struck, each followed by an arrow into the lake on 18. With his encouragement, you all started taking shots. Couples were trading partners faster than a bull market on Wall Street. Bedlam Reigned! The only one to escape this "love" bloodbath was the mother of the bride, despite being hit 15 times.
Jailer, is that it? We may have broken a few laws of nature, especially with those two bikers, but nothing that warrants legal action. All we did was steer love in an alternate path. Heck, how many weddings work out anyway? This was a public service.
Here comes the bailiff with the charges. Chip, wake those slackers up, I only want to read this once.
The jailer turns green and silent.
What is it constable, you look ill.
It appears, that our grumpy DA asked for your case and dismissed all charges. He even drew a smiley face on the indictments with the words, Cupid, you the man! You're all free to go. Hey kid, quit smiling.
Three years of Chip in print without being censored, banned or put on a "watch list", but there is still hope.