WRONG NUMBER by Joe Whatever "Hello, this is special agent Kris Monday," the voice on the telephone whispered urgently. "I need to talk to Sheriff Johnson right away." "Well, la-dee-dah," the secretary replied. "Imagine...a big fancy FBI agent like you calling little old me. The last I heard of you the Sheriff had dropped you off at the nasty old prison farm. Are you still there?" "You know I am," Kris replied curtly. "Please...I need to talk to the Sheriff right away." "You Yankees are always in such a hurry," the secretary sniffed. "I guess that's why you made me pick up your laundry and go fetch things from the store for you...least ways 'til you ended up in the clink." "I need to talk to the Sheriff NOW!" Kris said, trying to keep her voice low. "Well, he's at his desk eating his lunch, and I don't like to interrupt him unless it's important." "It IS important!" "Maybe you'd better tell me first, and let me decide," the secretary drawled. "Don't want to interrupt the Sheriff's apple pie. Tell me, or I'll hang up." "NO!" Kris pleaded. "Don't hang up. I sneaked into the guards' break room, and I'm using the pay-phone there. Nobody at the prison knows I'm really an FBI agent...and I've been sentenced to the razor strap for sassing one of the guards." "OW!" the secretary chortled. "I hear that strap really smarts. Is it true that they hang you up from that old scaffold in the courtyard?" "Yes!" Kris replied. "Now put the Sheriff...." "Is it true that they shuck you down naked?" Kris ground her teeth in frustration. She could tell that the dowdy little secretary was relishing every moment of her predicament. "Yes...they'll strip me naked." "Buck naked?" the secretary teased. "Yes!" Kris said, desperately. "Gosh, BARE naked!" the secretary snorted. "Imagine you dangling birthday bare in front of the warden and those horny male guards." "Put me through to the Sheriff...right now. He has to call the warden and tell him who I am...that I'm undercover." "Doesn't seem worth interrupting lunch," the secretary said, casually. "A dose of strap oil across your lazy backside might do you some good. You know, I heard you've been sucking a lot of ding-dongs out there at the prison," she went on merrily. "Is that true? Do those nasty guards make you suck their ding-dongs? Tell me true, if you want to talk to the Sheriff." "Yes!" Kris cried desperately. "They make me suck their...um, 'ding-dongs.' But they're going to give me the strap. The Sheriff has to get me out of here. The Bureau was misinformed. There's no drug ring here to investigate...." "YOU MUST DEPOSIT 25 CENTS FOR ADDITIONAL TIME," an automated voice said. "I don't have any more change!" Kris said, desperately. "Oh, god! The guards are coming! When they catch me I'll get double! Please...tell the Sheriff I called!" "Sure...what was your name again?" the secretary chortled as the line went dead. Edited by C. Lakewood