“Bo Autry, report to briefing room two. Bo Autry report to briefing room two,” a voice over the public address system called.
“Playtime's over, thanks,” he said handing the microphone back to the cute blonde dispatcher he'd borrowed it from when he overheard Wyatt calling in a minute earlier.
She smiled back and Bo tried to think of something clever to say to her as he left the room and failed miserably, saying, “Adios, Senorita.”
She looked up with a puzzled expression on her face and waved uncertainly as he walked into the hall.
He was looking back at her while walking out and bumped into somebody.
“Hey man, watch where yer going. I almost dropped my breakfast.”
Bo turned and there was Deputy Willie Dunn with two gravy covered biscuits on a plate while he chewing a mouthful of something. Willie, you pathetic whale of a man, don't you have any sense at all in that fat head of yours? Bo thought as he squeezed past his Dunn's enormous belly. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he said, “You could try eating that stuff in the break room, ya know.”
“No time, Boo Boo, gotta get to roll call,” he answered with a smirk (excited by the ‘witty’ way he changed Bo's name.) Willie scooped up one entire biscuit, covered in white dripping gravy, and shoved it into his big mouth.
Bo stopped walking and watched in almost morbid fascination as gravy dripped down Willie's chin and dribbled onto his uniform shirt. Other deputies were passing by and Bo couldn't resist saying, “Ya know, Willie, that white gravy dribbling down your chin sure looks a lot like sperm.”
A few officers smiled and chuckled, but it was Willie's response that made Bo know it was going to be a great day.
Willie grabbed the other biscuit with his greasy fingers, held it up like it was a rare beautiful gemstone, and said, “Sure doesn't taste like it,” as he popped it into his mouth.
The hallway erupted in gales of laughter as Willie realized, much too late, what he'd said and sputtered with a mouthful of biscuit and gravy, “No, wait a second, that’s not what I meant to say.”
Bo was still chuckling when he entered briefing room two and saw Captain Lopez standup, bend over at the waist, and say, “Welcome to fantasy briefing room number two.”
Bo shook his head. “I got a better one,” and recounted his latest Willie Dunn experience.
Lopez laughed till he cried. He eventually calmed down and used his handkerchief to wipe his eyes. When he was finally composed Lopez posed a good question. “What am I going to do with him? He's always late and forgets whatever I try to teach him. Dunn's got to be topping the scales at four hundred pounds. And the last thing I heard was that he was diagnosed as a type two Diabetic six months ago and still hasn't changed his diet. What am I supposed to do with him?”
“Shoot him,” Bo said grinning. “For his sake and the sake of Department morale, just put him down.”
“If he wasn't the Mayor's nephew I might just do that, but all things considered I think I'll just wait another couple of years and retire. If Dunn hasn't suffered a major heart attack by then he'll be Wyatt's problem, not mine.”
“Speaking of other problems, did that cell phone number Yugo dialed yesterday hit pay dirt yet?” Bo asked, sitting down across the table from his captain.
“Nope, not yet at least. We've got the cell phone number red flagged, though. If they turn it on or get somewhere that has cell tower coverage we'll be ready. I'll keep you in mind when we get a location on it.”
“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Bo said, looking at the stack of paperwork on the table.
“Oh, wait a second, before we go over all this other stuff, let me call Wyatt and see if the guys from Immigration showed up out there. The Sheriff already called me twice about that stupid raid this morning.”
“I spoke to Wyatt about ten minutes ago. He said they arrived and they'd be going down soon.”
“Good. At least that’s one less thing I need to worry about this morning,” Lopez said as he opened his briefcase and began going over the day’s itinerary.