Grunting in frustration, you seize the chihuahua by its tiny little body and dropkick it into next week.

You exhale, chuckle a little, and turn to find somewhere else to hide.

And walk right into the rather large frame of a robust urban housekeeper. An angry robust urban housekeeper.

“Ain’t no way ya’ll gawn’ puntin’ round mah dog wit’out permisshin. Mm-mm!” she declares, finger performing more Z-formations than the Blue Angels. Suddenly, she hears the police whistles. “In here, officers, in heah!” she cries, grabbing you by the collar.

As the policemens’ footsteps rapidly approach the door, you decide you must do one of two things:

You’ve had enough for one day. Turn yourself in, wait for your tongue to heal, and explain yourself. Go to Page 16.

Try to overpower the 356 lb. woman and run for it. Go to page 17.