"Hands where we can see them !!!" the first cop squawked into his PA, sending a shrill feedback through the speaker, as if to punctuate his nervousness. The Glock20 in his left hand was visibly trembling.
Having a red Mustang, Troop was no stranger to traffic stops - but this one was the first one in a while to receive a .45-caliber greeting. The squad car had been following him ever since leaving the parking lot where he picked up the 'package.'
Complying with the instructions of the familiar "felony stop," it was only a few moments before the first cop's partner had him covered. This allowed him to mount the prostrate Troop, and apply the Teflon-coated cuffs. It was at this moment that the overwhelming scent of nicotene gum filled Troop's nostrils.
"Great," thought Troop, "a jumpy cop who is trying to quit smoking. That's all I needed."
Hoisted up to his feet, Troop was gruffly shuffled over to the hood of the dark-blue Crown Vic, and spun around to face his captors.
"Where are the drugs, son?" asked the cuffer, furiously mashing his jaws in search of his own little 'hit.'
"What drugs?" asked Troop, the puzzled furrows in his brow authentic. "I don't do drugs !"
"Save it, buddy" chimed in the partner. "We saw everything back there."
"Yeah!" chompchompchomp "We heard you talking about the Special K ! "
A smile slowly crept across Troop's face. "Go ahead. It's in the white box in the front seat."
While both officers moved toward the 'Stang, Troop used the small cuff key kept in his belt to slip his shackles. By the time they found the Klarus flashlight and turned around, Troop had the handcuffs extended out toward the ex-smoker. "Have a nice evening, guys. No hard feelings."
Troop looked in his rearview, just in time to see the gum fly out of the officer's mouth toward his partner, as the arguing pair shrank rapidly to the soundtrack of a healthy V8.
