The burglars ambushed Officers Chance and Holloway in the alley just outside the bank’s side entrance. Two white handkerchiefs damp with chloroform, a minor struggle, and a few whiffs and mmmmphs later, they were bound and gagged in the back of the burglar’s van.
The burglars removed the officers’ pants to avoid the trouble of removing their weapons, mace and handcuffs individually. Their eyes were now only lightly dosed and the chloroform was beginning to wear off, so one of the burglars wet the handkerchiefs more thoroughly before pressing them into the lightly snoozing officers’ faces.
“Shhhhh,” he whispered, “You’re in for a nice long nap now.”
Officer Holloway quickly went under, his head rested gently against some boxes.
His partner, Chance, resisted, but was no match for the chloroform soaked cloth.
His eyes fluttered and the last thing he remembered was the scent of chloroform changing to salty, sweaty man musk, as he face planted into his partner, trading the white cotton of the handkerchief for the white cotton of his partner’s briefs. Chance tried to lift his head, but it was useless. As the hit a bump, his head jostled, causing his nose to plunge deep into Holloway’s white cotton covered hole. A position he’d remain in for the remainder of the hour ride.
