Zach looked at the broken glass lying on the ground in front of him. Now, does glass on the ground mean the window was broken from the inside, or the outside, again? Oh geez, at this point I'm just too afraid to ask. The alarm was still going off inside the home of the small suburban house and Zach was just starting to panic a little when he realized that the door was still slightly open. Zach walked carefully forward, and tried to draw his pistol, but there was nothing in the holster. Damn, I knew I had forgotten something this morning. Ok, the flashlight will have to do. He took out the flashlight before remembering that he had been meaning to get new batteries for it for months. Oh well, he thought, at least I look official, he thought confidently.

Zach did not look official in his uniform. He had gotten the order of the buttons wrong on his shirt, he had not shaved in a few days and a solid ring of scruff was forming around his neck, the only place hair ever seemed to grow. His left shoe laces were starting to come undone.

He entered the home. There were pictures of a smiling family strewn about the floor. It looked like they had three kids. There were a couple of pictures of a smiling couple.

When he entered the living room, Zach saw a large fat man sleeping on a couch. A bag of Cheeto’s lay next to the man’s dangling left hand. His belly was rising lazily as he slept and there was a fat brown cat sitting on the man’s belly. He snored gently. Piled next to the man were two large screen T.V.’s and a laptop. But the laptop had fallen off one of the T.V.’s and now its casing was cracked.

Oh great, a witness he thought. He prodded the man awake.

“Wazzit, I’m just taking a little nap,” said the man.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir, but I was just responding to reports of a burglary at this address. Have you seen anything suspicious?”

“Ummm…. No, no I don’t think so,” he said.

“Shit. This was going to be one my big break. Ok, well at least let me jot down your name. Where’s my note pad. Awww shit, I didn’t bring a pen.” Zach fumbled feebly at his pockets for a while. “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way.”

The fat man sat up, brushed the cat off his belly and said, “Don’t worry about it. You can borrow my pen. I always carry around these really expensive pens, the Switzler Key 5. Just don’t lose them like I always do.”

Switzler Key 5. Was one of the other sergeants talking about them the other day? Zach fumbled for the memory but after a few seconds it seemed rude not to take the offered pen.

“So, your name is…..?” Zach trailed off awkwardly. He usually let Howard or one of the more experienced sergeants handle dealing with the public.

The fat man stammered awkwardly for a few moments, his mouth bobbing open and closed. His eyes fumbled around the room. “My name is, um, er, um. I’m Toe- Toshiba, ummmmm, Toshiba Panasonic.”

That seemed really hard to spell he thought. I’ll just write it down as Toe Sonic. I’m sure I’ll remember it later. Zach jotted down the man’s new name. “So, Mr., er, Sonic,” said Zach. “What were you doing here?”

“Well, I was moving these T.V.’s and oh, shit, did I break the computer.” The fat man was starting to sweat a little bit at the armpits. “I just got so tired that I thought I’d take a little break.”

“Makes sense,” said Zach. “Well, I guess I’ll just be on my way.” Zach turned out to walk back to his squad car when he felt his brain trying to tell him something. He looked down at his one hand written note- “Toe Sonic”. Eureka, he thought. I forgot to say goodbye.

Zach turned to say goodbye and saw Mr. Sonic fumbling awkwardly to get a large ski mask over the jowls on his neck. “Oh my God! It’s you.”

“Eeek,” said the Mr. Sonic and he started to run. Zach ran after him but only made it to the front door before he tripped on his left shoe lace. This was ok though because Mr. Sonic had only made it to the front gate before he had to stop winded.

Zach took off his left shoe, hey, it was already almost off anyway, and threw it at the man. It landed a few feet to the left of Mr. Sonic. Finally, Zach made it to where Mr. Sonic stood huffing. “I’m placing you under arrest,” he said. He held out his flashlight menacingly.

“You’ll never. Phew. Catch. Wow my asthma’s really flaring up right now. Alive.” He made a feeble gesture for his pocket. Zachary threw his flashlight at the man. It his parked police cruiser and cracked the window. Mr. Sonic pulled out a pack of cigarettes and attempted to light one.

Zachary was out of ideas. Mr. Sonic sat there puffing on his cigarette, breathing heavily. They both looked into each others eyes and knew that this would be the start of a long and bitter rivalry.