The Corpse Farted

The Corpse Farted

As I sat alongside the road, waiting my thoughts raced. Had I missed something? Had someone ratted me out? The red and blue lights flashed in my mirror as the police officers approached my car. The officer that had been driving approached my window with his hand on his weapon. His partner stood at the rear of my vehicle on the passenger side. The cop looked back to make sure there was no oncoming traffic that he had to be concerned about. What was he looking for? We were in the middle of nowhere at two in the morning. There wasn’t another living soul for miles around. He approached my window and shined his two foot long phallic symbol of a flashlight in my eyes and then into the interior of my car. Satisfied he motioned for me to wind down my window. I hit the button and the window rolled down to let the cold Montana air into the warmth of the car.

“Something wrong Officer?” my breath fogged out the window.

“May I have your license, registration and proof of insurance please?” he replied.

I gathered the documents requested and handed them to him asking, “Did I do something wrong? Surely I wasn’t speeding?”

“No Sir, the reason I stopped you is that you have a taillight out” he responded.

I silently cursed the luck under my breath. I had checked the car out top to bottom when I rented the damn thing under an assumed name. My identification would stand up to the cursory check the police would run but not a much more thorough check. I would take the fixit ticket and be on my way and Mr. Steven Hamilton would drop of the face of the earth.

“One moment Mr. Hamilton and I’ll be right back,” the Trooper said as he walked back to his car.

The other policeman remained right where he had been stationed. I put my window up and turned the heat up a notch. A few minutes later the officer came walking back up with the ticket and motioned for me to put my window down. I lowered my window and he handed me my documents and the ticket pad.

“Please sign at the bottom Mr. Hamilton. This is not admitting any guilt or liability on your part it is only informing you of the violation and giving you twenty four hours to correct it and show proof of the correction,” he instructed me.

I took his pad and pen and signed where he had indicated. I handed the pad back to him. He tore my copy of the ticket from his pad and handed it to me. I took it and laid it on the seat beside me. I then placed the license back in my wallet. Just as the officer turned to walk back to his car, in the quiet night air for all to hear, the sound of a fart coming from my trunk echoed loudly.

“Trunk!” the officer yelled from the back of my car.

I turned to see him drawing his weapon and pointing it at the trunk of my car. I turned and looked for the other cop that had written me the ticket and found myself staring at the business end of a Glock 9mm. I slowly placed both of my hands on the steering wheel and sighed. I was so screwed.