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History Repeats Itself
I was asked to lead The Diogenes Club of Dallas meeting this month. The chosen story was The Hound of the Baskervilles and we were to read the first three chapters. I had the quiz all neatly prepared and so with the stereo blasting, I was cruising past the hamburger stand. My foot was a little heavy on the gas pedal since I was running late. As luck would have it, every single red-light conspired against me. I was a block away from the Londoner where we meet and I could actually see the other members entering the building.
I wanted very badly to be on time, so looking in both directions and seeing no other cars approaching, I eased through the red-light. As luck would have it, a Dallas police office came out of nowhere and turned on his red and blues. By the time I had rolled to a stop, I was in the parking lot of the Londoner.
I got out of my car only to hear the voice of God booming down from the sky.
"Get back into your vehicle," God instructed me, only I realized it was the voice of the police office using his microphone. I obeyed his suggestion.
As the officer approached, in an almost pimp-roll style, I knew I was in trouble.
"What seems to be the emergency?" he asked.
"I'm a Sherlockian and I have a quiz to give," I offered as an excuse.
"License and registration, please."
"There are people inside who are dying to take this quiz, officer. Don't you understand?
"I can make it rough on you; a hell of a lot harder than this stupid quiz." I had handed him a copy of the quiz instead of the requested license and registration. By this time, my members of the Diogenes Club were outside watching the entire affair unfold. They were shouting that I really was about to give them a quiz. The police officer ignored them completely.
"Charing Cross Hospital," the officer said. "That's the answer to number 7."
"Hey," I protested but was immediately hushed by the officer's outstretched hand. "But you are giving away the answers." At this point he drew his service revolver and pointed it at me.
"I can screw you over. I know all of the answers. If you don't start co-operating, I will give them all of the answers, including that silly bonus question."
I opened my mouth to protest but the police office walked up and stuffed the ticket he had been writing into my twisted lips and mouth.
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