Detective Rolland had been called to the scene. “What the hell happened here?” he asked the sergeant, who was still furiously busy recording the crime by drawing caricatures of the participants. “His nose is bigger than that!” Rolland shouted, derisively criticizing the sergeant’s attempt to portray one of the subjects and again asked, “What the hell happened here?”

“That’s the problem,” the sergeant responded while erasing his drawings and starting over again. “We can’t keep up with them.”

The detective was baffled. “Keep up with what?”

“With the noses,” another uniformed cop said, sidling up to the detective. “They’re growing faster than we can draw them.”

“Isn’t there a law against this sort of thing?” Detective Rolland pondered.

“Well…duh…that’s why we were called in, sir,” the first sergeant said, unable to suppress his disdain for the detective’s inability to sniff things out.

“What’s your name, son?” the detective yelled angrily. No one below his rank was allowed to mock him. Only people above him could deride, ridicule and make him look as foolish as they wanted, but not a lowly sergeant such as this one.

“Sergeant Miller, Sir,” the man responded, now much more in a submissive manner.

“Sergeant Miller. Well, that is interesting,” Rolland said, his face changing into a musing mien of amusement. “So, you’re first name is the same as your rank? Did your folks know you’d end up a cop?”

“My first name is Joe,” Miller responded.

“Joe Sergeant Miller…I see…very interesting…isn’t there a law that all murderous criminals must have three names?”

“I don’t know, sir …”

“If you are a murderous criminal, why are you wearing a uniform?” the detective asked sharply.

“I don’t know…I mean, I’m not a…”

“Aha! You are an impostor! Now we’re getting somewhere!” Detective Rolland shouted triumphantly. “Case closed! Arrest this man!”

“What about the noses?” yet another sergeant, who refused to give his name, asked.

“What about what noses?”

“They’re delinquent, they’re getting bigger…look, they’re making a mess!” the sergeant cried out. “We cannot, in good conscience, continue to sketch them, sir! We’re running out of paper!”

“Who is in charge here?” a booming voice coming from behind suddenly demanded to know. It was a familiar one, belonging to the captain. He was a big man with a giant nose protruding penetratingly from his face into the open air.

“I am, sir,” Detective Rolland said. “It’s just a case of out-of-control noses, but we have it under control now.”

“So, where is the stiff?” the captain asked.

“They’re all stiff and also very stuffed up indeed,” Rolland replied. “And, I might add, very protruding.”

“There is nothing wrong with protruding noses,” the captain opined, scratching his nose.

“I totally agree. That’s exactly what I said, sir,” the detective replied.

“Alright, clean this mess up and let’s get outta here!” the captain shouted as he drove off.

“Alright, clean this mess up and let’s get outta here!” Detective Rolland repeated. “Case closed!”