(No, it’s NOT Tom!)
“You’re out of your wheelhouse, Foolery! Give me your badge!” the police somethingorother snarled, broomish mustache quivering.
Max Foolery had a choice. He could hand over his badge and gun with quiet dignity or he could roll on the floor and shriek like a banshee. He opted for quiet dignity, but in his heart he was rolling and he was shrieking.
Max Foolery snarled* in the face of the suspect, “You don’t know who you’re messing with, pal!”
The suspect, whose name was Dengoo Feevair and whose parents were French and inexplicably cruel, tried to snarl too, but it came out more like a squeak**. “You’re right! I don’t!”
“It’s Foolery. Max Foolery!”
“Oh,” Dengoo said.
“You’ve been fooleried!” Max growled***, slamming out of the room.
“I think you could improve…” Dengoo sighed. “Oh nevermind.”
“Catch ya later, chief,” Max said, “Foolery. Max Foolery.”
“I know your name!” The “chief” yelled after him.
* Snarling was all the rage at Police City Police Headquarters.
** Squarl. Squearl. Oh, nevermind.
*** Don’t get me wrong, growling was still pretty popular at PCPHQ.