Can You Smooth That Out For Me A Little?
Lieutenant Cordell wasn’t happy to see me.
“I never should’ve allowed you to operate in the city of Los Angeles , with that Mickey Mouse license you flashed at me, so fast I could barely see what was on it. You say you’re from Boston? What the hell are you doing here?”
Either Cordell had an incredibly short memory or else he was bullying me for the sake of it.
“Sorry I didn’t bring my passport,” I said, arrogantly. “I kind of had the idea that we were all part of the same country.”