Limited Truth

You do your best to cover yourself with your legs and the clipboard as you fill out the paperwork… just a generic witness statement form. Name, phone, email, current address, yadda yadda, a big empty block for text, and a date and signature line… plus a little fine text, things like “I swear under penalty of perjury,” and whatnot.

You settle on filling it out as honestly as you can, adding a bunch of notes about ‘I think’ and ‘it's a bit fuzzy’ in the mix. Got a workout in the gym, accepted an invite to get a drink… blacked out after the first gulp.

“How'd they pull it off, anyway?” You ask your companion silently.

“Best guess?” The ring considers, “Coordination. Drop something at the bottom of a frosted glass before putting in the ice, and it's really hard to detect. The beer in the pitcher was fine, so as long as they keep the glasses straight, they're poured from the same pitcher and everything looks on the up and up.”

“And how'd you identify it so quickly?” Obvious follow up question.

“I get full sensation from your body while we're linked, and a simple gulp of beer should not make you feel that warm on a full stomach. Add to that the scent and flavor…” he pauses, “I'm just sorry I didn't catch it sooner. I've had more hosts poisoned than ****, but that's hardly an excuse.”

“Well… I'm still here…” you finish filling out the form.

“Good way of looking at it,” the officer nods as he takes the paperwork.

Oh, that was out loud? “Umm… got like a towel or something?”

The officer cringes, “Ah, no… my fire blanket is in the department laundry… sorry."

You glance at the EMT, who grins evilly, "You refused treatment.” The pig.

“So you're going to make me walk naked back to the dorms?” Seriously?

“I can drive you there?” The officer cringes at the expression on your face, “best I can do. Umm… here's the stuff the detective didn't take as evidence…” he holds it out.

Ironically, your student ID, wallet, cell phone, and key cars are stored in an evidence bag. You reach out and grab them. “Is there anything you can do?”

“I wish there was…” the officer shakes his head.

“Oh. Right. Social mores and clothes,” the Ring answers in your head, “a piece of paper and a couple minutes and I can get you something good for a couple of hours. You're going to need to explain where it came from, though.”

“Right,” you sigh, “let's get this over with….”

You streak to the officer's car… only to be **** to wait outside as you find it's locked. It at least gives you time to look at the carnage:

The bar is gone. All that's left is ashes, some scattered bricks, a little twisted metal, and a black spot on the ground. The neighboring buildings will need a new paint job from the soot, and are soaking wet… but standing and apparently intact. Looks like a car got caught in the blaze… you can still make out the frame and the engine block. And oh that breeze is cold on your baby bakery.

The officer opens the door for you (front passenger), and you quickly get in, blushing furiously, trying your best to sink into the seat. The officer doesn't start on the drive, just asking, “So… which dorm?”

You answer… and he drives right up to the door, getting his car on the campus lawn and the sidewalk… so you only have about five feet of public exposure between the car and the dorm. You miss twice with your key card, then rush upstairs, and collapse crying on the bed, trying really hard NOT to think about what this will do to your social life.

“So what's the nightmare?” Your roommate cringes.

Ugh. “I don't want to talk about it,” you answer, getting up and getting started in getting dressed, “I just want to forget this morning ever happened.”

Betty pauses, “Okay, so… normally I'd say ‘it can't possibly be that bad’... but you were dropped off naked by the police.” She takes a breath, “Still… the things we least want to talk about are usually the ones where it's most important to do so.”

“I lost my clothes, got ****, nearly **** by two evil men, was tied up by an absolute pig of an EMT while I was sleeping off the ****, and had to come home naked,” you sigh as you pick out a bra, “It was scary, degrading, embarrassing, and awful… but at least the two rapists will need reconstructive surgery after what the newest man in my life did to them.”

Betty frowns, “That doesn't add up,” she tilts her head left, holding up the hand on that side, “he defended you very violently,” she tilts her head right, lowering the hand on that side, “but didn't so much as lend you his jacket?”

Ugh. You don't want to lie to her… “It's simple, but not something I want getting out. Swear you won't tell anyone?”

The ring whispers, “Are you sure?”

“Not even my own mother,” Betty runs her hand head to sternum, shoulder to shoulder.

You speak plainly, but low because you know how thin the walls are here, “I'm in training to be a superhero. The man doesn't have his own body, which means when I started to crash from the **** he borrowed mine to clean up. He sent both of the folks immediately involved in the **** attempt to the hospital by beating them to a pulp, calling emergency services, setting the place on fire, burning them with the flames, and then bodily throwing them out hard enough to break their legs on landing. He let me collapse into the arms of a fireman, who passed me off to a garden-variety perv of an EMT rather than an evil ****.”

“Doesn't explain what happened to your cl…” your friend trails off…

…because you trigger the ring and turn into Anvil, “Hi. I'm Anvil,” you cringe as the bra you were wearing snaps and flies across the room in pieces. You then tap the ring twice again to turn off, resuming your normal appearance… just naked, but it's your own dorm room with the door closed this time. You find another bra and start getting dressed. “Yeah, that's the problem there.”