“Yo, yo quick. Hide that, the cop is coming up to the car,” the teenage boy said as his friend scurried to throw the contraband in the glove compartment. Sweat trickled off the noses of the two young delinquents as the driver rolled down the window.

“You fellas know how fast you were going?” asked the officer, peering down upon the juveniles through his sunglasses.

“Uh, no sir. Was I speeding?” the driver responded as innocently as possible.

The officer breathed in as though about to speak, but paused in silence. All the boys could hear was the sound of their own heartbeats within their chests. “Son, do I smell something I shouldn’t be smelling, or did you two gentlemen just run over a skunk?”

The driver suddenly found it hard to swallow. Both teens’ heartbeats grew louder and louder as though they were having their own conversation. The lights from the squad car shined through the rear-view mirror blinding the driver, each rotation of the red and blue lights penetrating deeper and deeper into his soul.

“What’s the matter there, sport? Cat got your tongue? You don’t mind if I take a look through your vehicle, do you? Why don’t both of you slowly step out.”

The boys’ legs shook violently as they exited the Honda Accord. Instinctively making eye contact, they said nothing but knew each other’s thoughts telepathically: we’re screwed.

The officer grinned as he sat himself in the driver’s seat. Slowly he reached for the glove compartment. As he gripped the handle, the stomachs of both teens dropped as though they were on a rollercoaster, hurtling straight down to Earth. When he lifted the handle, the compartment swung open, and the endangered, Peruvian skunk leaped out onto the officer’s lap. Giving out an unforgettable shriek, the officer jumped out of the car. In shock, the teens watched as the officer scrambled back to his squad car and sped off in a frenzy.

“Wow, those squad cars have some get-up to them.”