Busted!

The janitor was heading in the direction of the library, hoping to check out the librarian, when someone called out his name. He turned to see Officer Sarah Pulanski, a local cop who patrolled the high school full time under a federal anti-**** grant. Her dark hair was in a tight braid down her back, her dark eyes were deadly serious, and her lips were curled into a vicious frown. She strode purposefully towards him.

“Mr. Horner, I just found three students in the parking lot with a bottle of vodka,” she said.

”Really Officer Pookie?” he said with wide-eyed innocence.

”Pulanski!” she corrected curtly.

“No, Pookie,” Horner countered, gripping the wishbone.

“Fine, my name is Officer Pookie, but that’s not the point,” she said. “The point is that one of the students said YOU provided them with the ****!”

“But Officer Pookie, why on earth would I do that?” he asked.

“They said you charged them thirty dollars plus used pairs of their older sisters’ underpants!” said the officer with clear disgust.

“Those sound like serious charges,” Mr. Horner said. “Good thing you’re on the case!”

“Darn right I am!” said the newly-christened officer Pookie. “I’m going to need to search your janitor’s closet.”

“Right this way, Detective!” the janitor said with a flourish, leading her to his closet and closing the door behind them so as not to be disturbed. The officer went right to where he stashed his bourbon, inside the sawdust bag. It wasn’t much of a feat, given that the janitor had wished for her to look there.

“Ah-hah!” the cop exclaimed. “What do you have to say about this? Did you know that even HAVING **** on campus is a CRIME?”

The officer then uncapped the half-full pocket flask of Jack Daniels and chugged it down.

“But I just brought the empty bottle in to mix cleaning solvents in,” Mr. Horner protested.

Officer Pookie stared at him as if he was an idiot, blinking away tears and trying to focus her eyes as a blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“Wahz are you talksin’ ‘bout, empy bozzle?” she demanded. “Isss half full!”

She gestured with the empty bottle, then stared at it dumbfounded.

“Wah the fuch?” she asked, holding the mouth of the bottle up to one eye trying to see where it had gone, oblivious to how drunk she had just gotten thanks to a wish from the janitor. “Where’d it go?

“Where did what go, Officer Pookie?” he asked.

“The booze!” she said. “I’m lookin’ fer the booze that’s yous gots in here *hic* esuse me.”

“Well, maybe you’re going to have to perform a strip search,” Mr. Horner suggested.

She stared at him, head wobbly on her shoulders.

“Well, okay,” she said, unbuttoning her uniform. “But I don’ know that I’m gonna fine anyfing naked that I couzn fine wif cloths on.”

She struggled a bit with buttons and buckles until the janitor wished her fingers more nimble even when drunk. After that, she shed her uniform and utilitarian underwear quite efficiently revealing a toned and muscular body that still maintained feminine curves.

“Leave the hat,” the Janitor suggested. “You want to maintain the dignity of your position, Officer Pookie.”

“Right you are!” said the naked cop. “Now less see what you got hidin in here!”