The senior police officer's face wore the horrified expression that came over it whenever he heard the clip-clop of camel hooves. He dashed to bolt the station door, but reached it just as Our Heroine (OH) thrust the door open with enough vigor to send it banging against the wall.
"Good morning, gentlemen", OH said cheerfully, "I'll need you to run these fingerprints through your criminal identification system". She held the offending Vegemite jar aloft, wrapped in cellophane. The senior officer stared at the jar dejectedly, looking as though he might cry.
"Not another one", he murmured, his chin trembling a bit. Animal control calls and OH's fingerprint searches was the only business justifying the police department's existence (locals called the department Pest Patrol), but this fact did not help the officer accept his arduous burden. He shuffled slowly to his computer, a beaten man.
The junior officer, a new recruit hired only because his brother was on the board of selectmen, gawked at the sight of OH's transportation standing in the parking lot.
"What the flipping fun is that?!" he hollered, dropping his jelly donut. The object of this outburst was placidly chewing a lump of regurgitated grass.
"Oh, no it isn't", he continued, "Is that a camel cart?"
"Dromedary", she corrected. "Dromedary is the proper term for racing camels like Fergie--"
"Fergie the...racing..." The junior officer was laughing so hard he had difficulty speaking.
"--whose blood lines can be traced back thousands of years--" OH continued.
"C-c-camel!" the officer gasped, holding on to a filing cabinet as his knees buckled under him.
"--to the original performance dromedaries of High Sheik Ra-Haman the First", she finished.
As she was speaking, OH's voice took on a supercilious tone. OH held the truth to be self evident that not all law enforcement officials were created equal, and it was her duty to remind this officer just how junior he was. OH took the phrase "stiff upper lip" quite literally and pooched her upper lip out as far as it would pooch, which resulted in a face not unlike those of the Easter Island statuaries. However, OH's efforts were lost on their intended target.
"Ra-ha-ha-ha! Drom-a-dare-e-he-hee!" A choking, spluttering sound issued from the floor where the junior officer lay.
OH had met similar scorn before and had looked it squarely in the eye. The camel cart had been an ingenious, if short-lived marketing scheme created by Camel Cigarettes. The bearer of 29,000 Camel dollars--one dollar inside each cigarette pack--would be presented with an authentic Saudi Arabian dromedary and cart, which was painted Camel gold and rather resembled a Roman chariot.
OH had bartered and traded with members of Litter Collectors of the Tri-County Area until she was in possession of 29,000 Camel dollars. Collecting her reward had been the most fulfilling event of her life, and OH had the esteem of being the only person to ever receive a Camel camel cart.
Camel Cigarettes withdrew this promotional when a journalist learned that the camel supplier could not ensure that less than .4% of the proceeds were used to finance terrorist activities.
In a final attempt to promote camel cart transportation to the young officer, OH began explaining that dromedary droppings were beneficial to organic gardening practices, but she was so unsettled by the officer's behavior that she said "fulch and mertilizer" instead of "mulch and fertilizer".
"Oh, maggot poop", OH sighed, "He's not worth it".
As she exited the station, OH clearly heard the senior officer's voice reverberating through the building at a very high pitch and decibel level, as though he were shouting through a bull horn: "Aaaarrgh! Officious, pernicious, doggone do-gooder of a--a camel jockey!"
"Thank you, thank you", OH said quietly, smiling to herself. She took the officer's words as a compliment from one professional to another.
