"Someone stole my clothes!"

"Stop right there, Sir!"

"Is there a problem, Officer?"

"You're naked!"

"What? No, I ... Officer! Someone stole my clothes!"

"Right off your body?"

"Officer, I swear, I was fully clothed two minutes ago."

"Sir, we're the only two human beings within a two block area. Get into my squad car, cover yourself with this blanket, and you can explain to me why you're naked."

"Aliens!"

"Aliens? From what country?"

"Aliens from another planet! This is Las Vegas, isn't it?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with extraterrestrials?"

"Las Vegas is near Area 51, where the government imprisons extraterrestrials."

" Uh, OK?"

"it obvious, Officer. Aliens escaped from Area 51 and stole my clothes."

"You tell that to the desk sergeant. And keep it in mind to tell your lawyer? You have the right..."

"Officer, I know my Miranda Rights. This isn't my first ride in a police car. Although, usually it's for public drunkenness and not public nudity."

"You're not drunk, Mr. ..."

"Broderrick, Jacob Samuel Broderrick."

"As I was saying, Mr. Broderrick, you're not drunk, but you might want to consider that as an alternative excuse."

"Officer, I haven't had a drink in five months. After today I might fall off the wagon."

"Don't hurt yourself. Mr. Broderrick, we're at the station. Do you still claim aliens from another planet stole your clothes."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Sigh."

"Is there a problem, Officer?"

"Can you describe the aliens for me?"

"Yes, Sir. They looked like Klingons."

"Klingons? You mean like Warf from Star Trek The Next Generation"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Let's go into the station, Mr. Broderrick. You can tell your story to the desk sergeant while I write up my report."

"I'd be glad to, Officer."

Word Count: 285