“Lisense, regithration, and proof of inthurance, pleaze.”

“Oh, God, a lisp!” He thought as his smirk broke free. “I’m in a fucking movie.” Out loud, “Uh, sorry about blocking the intersection officer, but with all this construction…”

A couple of workers passing by stopped at the exclamation to stare and watch the scene unfold.

“Um, ah, I can explain, officer…”

Tersely, in angry monotone, “Lisense, regithration, and proof of inthurance.”

Karl hastily retrieved his satchel from the back seat and placed it on top of the phone. He fished about for his wallet, and after finding it retrieved his license and insurance card and handed them over before reaching into his glove box for the registration.

“Thurr, this inthurance card is espired.”

The workers guffawed.

“Huh – what?”

“Espired,” he thrust it back through the window.

Taking it back, he saw that it was expired. As of a week ago. He saw the new card sitting on his desk at home in the unopened policy renewal envelope.



Sheepishly, “Sorry, officer, I just realized my new card is at home.”

The mirrored eyes did not blink. Karl returned to the search for his registration. There was some barking in the background, and the lollygagging workers grumbled to each other and moved on. His headache was starting to return with a vengeance.

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