




                   AN E-MAIL TO TRACY

                           by

                        Joe Doe


FROM THAT SUAVE AMBASSADOR OF INTERNATIONAL GOOD WILL, THE SHERIFF



From:    Sheriff@StRC.gov 
To:      T_Smith@midlandconstabulary.gov.uk
Subject: Your research trip
Date:    20 March 2007


Dear Tracy,

First off, let me say again that I think your idea of going 
"undercover" at the St. Ripsurtch County prison farm to do 
research for your doctorate degree in criminal-whatever is 
a crackerjack idea.  I've never had a pretty little English 
"bird" in one of my cages, and, after looking at those hot 
photos on your police award website, I think you'll be a 
perfect addition to my little henhouse.

Your last note really made me laugh, although I'm not sure I 
understood all the fancy words you used.  But I figure that's 
cuz England don't have near as fine a education system as ours, 
so you don't speak English good the way we do over here.

I agree with your decision not to tell any of your family and 
friends about where you'll be.  I'll be the only one who knows 
that you're here undercover, but I don't think that will be a 
problem.  Not unless I forget about you!  (Just kidding!  Sorry, 
but we Americans are a lot funnier than you, and, since you'll 
be visiting us, you'd better just get used to that.)

Pardon my French, but we don't need no fucking cover story or 
some fancy college-girl plan to get you arrested.  And no, you 
won't need to break no laws that will get the queen's knickers 
in a bundle when you get back to jolly old England, or the United 
Kingdom, or whatever you people are calling yourselves since the 
13 Colonies gave you the old heave-tally-ho.

I know you ain't from round these parts, so I ain't exactly 
expecting a rocket scientist.  Still, I think you're making 
this way harder than it needs to be.  Just drive around town 
with the top down on your convertible so my deputies can get 
a good look at you, and believe-you-me they'll pull you over 
for something.  My boys are real pussy-hounds, and they won't 
miss a hot little number like you.

If that don't work, or if it's rainy outside, just head on over 
to the doughnut shop.  One of my boys is bound to be there.  I 
suggest you wear that cute little number you had on in those 
police picnic photographs, the one that shows your belly button 
and those long, bare legs of yours.  Move around.  Bend over to 
look at the doughnut holes on the bottom shelf.  Drop some change.  
Have fun with it, girl!

I think your blonde hair and that naturally stupid look you English 
girls always have make you a great target, and it won't take them 
long to see you as a perp!

Have some coffee and a doughnut.  Relax.  Drink up.  Enjoy the 
doughnut.  It might be the last decent food you'll be eating for 
quite a while.  I mean, the gruel they serve at the farm is pretty 
nutritious, but it's not real tasty, even compared to the crappy 
stuff you foreigners eat.  ("Bangers and Mash"?  "Bubble and 
Squeak"?  "Spotted Dick"?)

You might want to have some bacon or something, too.  After you're 
arrested, the only protein you'll be swallowing is going to be the 
stuff that squirts out of my deputies' meat thermometers, if you 
know what I mean.

Anyway, after you eat, use the restroom...but "forget" your purse 
and leave it on the counter.

Fat chance it'll be there when you get back.

And then, how are you going to pay for your coffee, Miss Scotland 
Yard smarty-knickers, when you don't got no money?  And I'm betting 
the deputies won't take too kindly to you driving without no 
license, either.

And how are you going to get back to kiss her majesty's royal butt 
when you got no passport, Miss Inspector!  Swim?

Now, you seemed a little concerned about our "corporal punishment 
policy," as you put it.  If you mean whuppins, then don't you worry 
your pretty little head about it, cuz I take care of those 
personally.

You said that on the undercover assignment at the boarding school, 
you got the cane, and it burned like fire, and boo-hoo-hoo.  Well, 
missy, I'm sick to death hearing about how bad the cane is.  I use 
the razor strap, and I think it's just as good as anything you got 
over there (if not better), and I intend to prove it.

And here's news for you, Twiggy: your snotty Spice Girls attitude 
has guaranteed you a chance to touch your toes while Old Betsy 
toasts your little English muffins.  I know Betsy will learn you 
a thing or two about how we get the job done in the U. S. of A.

As for your second "concern," yeah, you'll be getting a work 
assignment all right.  Hope you like picking cotton and slopping 
pigs, young lady, cuz this ain't the EU, and we don't let prisoners 
suck off the taxpayer's titty.

Course, after sundown we'll just slip those leg irons off your 
pretty little ankles and put on some dancing shoes.  We had a 
French diplomat get lost round here a few years back, and we put 
her up on stage and made her strip out of this cute little maid's 
outfit.  She was completely humiliated by the whole thing, and her 
hotsy-totsy Froggie opinions weren't really popular around here.  
Course, that only made her a bigger attraction, and every guy in 
town was paying me money to let 'em slip her the old French fry, 
if you know what I'm getting at.

Speaking of which, if you got that school uniform from your old 
undercover assignment, bring it along.  The fellas will get a 
real hoot seeing you prance around the stage in that.

In terms of how long you stay, well, that's up to the judge, but I 
think it's only fair that I get to turn a profit (a few "bob" as 
you all might say) on the deal.  Just remember that I'm also the 
justice of the peace in these parts, and I'm warning you now that 
this ain't France, and we don't believe in coddling criminals.  
We're fighting a war on terror, young lady, and we don't have time 
for lawyers and constitutions and appeals.  Blair, your Poobah (or 
whatever it is he's called), keeps trying to explain that to you 
people, so you ought to listen up.

Glad to hear you've already booked your flight.  Feel free to write 
me if you got any concerns, or we can just talk about it when you 
get here, and you're safely under my jurisdiction.

Cheerio,

The Sheriff



Edited by C. Lakewood




