“The crazy thing about this is…are you really a lawyer? You don’t look like you’re old enough to be one.” Billy Lawn Fisher said.

“Yes, I’m a lawyer.” the Suit said. “Now go on with what you recall.”

“What, I do with what?”

“Your story, your story. Tell me in your own words.”

“That’s dumb. Who’s other words would I use?”

The Suit raised his voice. “What Happened?”

“Well, when I woke up I was wearin’ boxers. I don’t never wear no boxers. You can ask Elsha Mae Hawk. She’s my girlfriend. She’ll tell you that I don’t wear nuttin’ but them tight underwears. One time she bought me some of those real tiny shorts. Whooee, do they crawl up your butt.”

“Ok, ok. Now tell me what happened after the police booked you.”

“Said it was a drunk tank, but I wasn’t drunk. Only had a couple of six packs, but they was some real drunks in there.”

“Ok, go on,” the Suit said.

“Well, when I woke up this mornin’ I had on these boxer shorts and a sore butt, and that’s all I have to say about that.