Police Station

Derek sat in the waiting area of the police station. He knew how crazy his story sounded, but he kept repeating it. “I’m telling you, I’m not a prostitute.”

“Oh, believe me, you are a prostitute,” The police officer said, “At least you are now. We have plenty of video evidence to convict you, but the only reason you’re waiting up here instead of in a cell is because of this body swapping thing you keep talking about. We’ve had about a dozen people in here this week with similar claims. The first few people we just thought were crazy, but by the fourth or fifth, we wondered if there was something to it. What can you tell us?”

“I was minding my own business, then this punk starts to mug me. I quickly realize the gun he has looks like a toy, so I just shrug him off instead of handing anything over. Next thing I know, he zaps with that damned thing and I find myself in the back seat of a car doing things that I don’t care to repeat to some strange guy. I get out of there as fast as I can, and then you guys pick me up.”

“If you can describe the guy who mugged you, this story just might check out...”