A frantic husband burst into the police precinct, tears streaming down his face, desperately needing to file a lacking individual report.
The on-duty inspector grabbed a notepad. “Relax, sir. Let’s get some particulars. What’s your spouse’s top?”
“Uh, I’m probably not certain,” the husband stammered, wiping his nostril. “I by no means checked.”
“Is she slim, common, or heavy?”
“Not slim… common? Possibly wholesome? Truthfully, I don’t know.”
“What about her eye shade?” the inspector pressed.
“By no means actually seen, to be trustworthy.”
“Hair shade?”
“It adjustments each few weeks relying on her temper and the season.”
The inspector sighed, tapping his pen. “What was she carrying whenever you final noticed her?”
“A gown? Or perhaps a pantsuit? It might need even been a tracksuit, I can’t keep in mind.”
The inspector rubbed his temples. “Was she on foot, or was she driving?”
“She was driving!” the person cried.
“Nice. Are you able to inform me the precise make, mannequin, and shade of the car?”
The husband stopped crying immediately. The fog cleared from his eyes, and his voice took on a tone of absolute, laser-focused reverence:
“A phantom-black Audi A8 with a supercharged 3.0-liter V6 engine producing 333 horsepower, paired with an eight-speed Tiptronic automated transmission. It has full matrix LED headlights, custom-made leather-based inside, and…” his voice abruptly cracked, a recent wave of violent sobbing taking on, “…and there’s a microscopic, heartbreaking scratch on the front-left door!”
The inspector slowly closed his notepad, positioned a comforting hand on the weeping man’s shoulder, and whispered:
“Don’t fear, sir. We are going to discover your automobile.”
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