“Shit! I’m receiving a signal!! Hold on to something.”
Detective Rothfuss’s beard tingled as he passed 49th and Main. He slammed the steering wheel hard, ricocheting the bullet-hole-filled squad car in the opposite direction. It wasn’t easy, fighting crime with enchanted facial hair. The beard couldn’t detect the exact nature of the clue. Was it picking up evidence? A witness?
His partner, Lin-Manuel Miranda, whooped as he steadied his coffee cup. He’d recently become enamored with raspberry mochas. “Aw yeah, Lit Squad springin’ into action. Ain’t nowhere you can hide from us if you’ve committed an infraction.”
Rothfuss grinned. Marvelous.