Snippet #2549655

It was Sheriff Fleetwood's custom to arrive at work early, and he detested the feeling of being late. It was something impressed upon him when he was a deputy... Grimacing as he sipped from his mug of dishwater based coffee (the station didn't have the budget to upgrade appliances), he settled down at his desk and glanced sparingly over the front page of today's 'Gazette'.

"Hmph." he grunted dismissively. Just more news on the upcoming centennial celebrations. It was an improvement over yesterday's story, at least, which had reported on a tennis shoe found a few miles from the Refrigeration Plant. They'd made it sound like the freaking crime of the century...not that his deputies didn't treat it as such as well.

Speaking of which...the radio on his desk buzzed to life, crackled like a campfire for a good three minutes, and then emitted the distorted voice of Deputy Corville one of his more...eager associates.

"Sheriff! Sheriff Fleetwood! Are you there..."

"Yes, Jim, I'm here," said Bill into the radio, wishing he weren't, "What is it?"

"We've got reports of an incident down by the interstate."

"Oh?" He didn't see what problem that was of his department. Besides, he was almost certain the highway police made more in a month than he made in a year.

"Yeah, we got a few calls from drivers on the road. Said some car drove the width of the whole highway to get to our exit."

Bill raised his eyebrows, "Anyone hurt?"

"No, but apparently a bunch of people were late to work because of it."

Bill shifted tiredly in his seat, "Got a license plate?"

"Er..."

"No, then. Alright. They'll have to be ticketed."

"Of course, Sheriff, I'm right..."

"Never you mind, Jim, I'm on it." Bill was already getting up.

"But Sheriff..."

"It's fine, Jim." he tuned the radio out, put on his jacket, and got the keys to his truck. Better he go and confront the anonymous reckless driver than his upstart deputy. The exit ramp was dangerous enough already in the frosty season... It had to be some kind of lunatic who would do anything like that behind the wheel.

Uncomfortably he thought of his own past experiences on that ramp, but just as quickly shook the thought away. Self-consciously holding his hand to his bad leg, he limped steadily out of the station and toward his truck.

[OOC: Just a note to everyone: Deputy Corville is just some random one-shot character that any of you can control as you need. Just to avoid confusion.;) ]