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