We were not rockin' and rollin' in Maggody, or even reelin' just a bit. There was so little action, to be frank, that I was reduced to wandering down a dim hallway in the high school, trying to remember where the cafeteria was, so that I, Arly Hanks, chief of police of a staunchly stagnant community, currently unarmed but the possessor of a handgun, four bullets, and a really scary radar gun, could snooze through a school-board meeting.
If I'd had cable, I wouldn't have been there. And, well, maybe if I hadn't heard rumors that the meeting might turn lively. The rumors came from a most reliable source, aka my mother, who...