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They put him in a cell with a man who looked a lot like Hulk Hogan, except maybe hulkier. And definitely hairier. Hulk-clone introduced himself as Bobby, which was funny because he definitely didn't look like a Bobby, although Nick still had enough wits about him not to say that out loud.
Bobby was very friendly. "Whacha in for?" he asked.
"Hitting the mayor's wife and having a skeleton in my car."
Bobby blinked his large owl eyes slowly. Nick waited for a laugh, a punch on the arm, a derisive snort, some sign Bobby didn't believe him, but Bobby simply said, "Neat."
"How about you?" Nick asked politely. It was always wise to get on the good side of your cellmates. Or so Nick guessed, this being his first time.
Bobby stretched his arms out wide, then grasped his hands in front of him, cracking the knuckles on his large calloused paws, one by one. Nick had always admired men who could do that. One of those tricks to show off at office parties or Happy Hour, like belching your name on pitch.
Bobby replied, "This time? Bashing some guy's face in. I didn't like the way he kept saying Brett Favre's name. Like it was Fah-vray. I mean, it's French, right, so if anything it should be pronounced Fah-vruh." Bobby said it was a slight flip of the "R." His French accent was pretty good.
"And last time?" Nick asked.
Bobby thought about it for a moment. "Time before that, it was shoplifting women's underwear. So I guess the most recent time, it must have been larceny."
Wow. Maybe Nick should get the name of Bobby's lawyer, because he obviously was good at getting the man out of tough scrapes. Nick couldn't help himself, since he was bored, well, maybe more scared than bored, but trying like mad not to think about it, so he asked, "Larceny?"
