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You’re not sure what exactly was wrong but you did as you’re told. “Turn around”.

He turns you around and begins to pat you down, slowly. His thick hands reaching around, checking you out. He lays a hand on your shoulder, leans in growls into your ear. “I’m going to have to take you in.” His breath is hot, smokey, and you wince before you can object. “Something wrong, son?”

“No officer…why are-”

“Let’s go.” He grabs your arm before you can finish, leading you to the car. He opens the back of the police car, and his cigar smoke pours out. It hits you hard. He pushes you down and into the back. The air inside is acrid, stinging. He slams the door shut. He comes around to the front and enters the car, taking a moment to touch up and relight his cigar. As he puffs and drives you off the air grows even thicker with smoke. Your head begins to swim, your vision hazy. “Where…where are we…going?”