{{scene opens to a NY police station and the Sgt on duty checking the calendar. Another officer sees him}}

Officer (O) – What’s up Sgt? Forget the day already?

Sgt – I just had to make sure it wasn’t Halloween.

O – Halloween! We have two months ’til then. Why would you even think that?

Sgt – There’s a chick at the desk who wants to file a report of assault and robbery.

O- Sounds normal.

Sgt – She’s got wings, a wand, and some fru-fru gown and claims her tiara was stolen by another chick in a red wagon.

O- Is it gay pride week?

Sgt – No, she’s not a tranny – claims she’s the tooth fairy and asked me about the crack filing in my molar.

{{Office rises and looks at the calendar}}

O- Geez Sgt, we are in for it if they are showing up on Labor Day. How do you issue a BOLO (be on the look out) for red wagon?
. . . . . . . . . .
♫♫ Carolann ♫♫

<– dancing daintily beside my red wagon

I’m so pretty, oh so pretty

Tips tiara rakishly…

Sure wish I had a wand………
. . . . . . . . . .
/\_/\
>’.'< ♥ Mickie ♥

It was a dark night, not even a hint of the moon to be seen, and the lone street light guttered as she walked underneath. Her wings drooped and her hair hung in loose ringlets framing her angelic face. The frown she wore was a contradiction to her countenance.

“In all my years I have never had an encounter like that. I usually only have to deal with little kids who want to catch me in the act.” She adjusted the tiara she no longer wore – realized her error and gave a sigh. She stopped. Had she heard something? Must have been her imagination.

She needed to get to little Jason’s house. That boy had lost at least six teeth in four months. It was heartbreaking to see his cherubic face as his family enjoyed corn on the cob all summer and all he could do was watch and wish for teeth that were taking their own sweet time to come in.

There was that sound again. No – it couldn’t be. Not the red wagon! Was she being followed. Louder still. She inhaled sharply and turned but could make out nothing in the darkened street. There it was again, closer still. She gripped her wand and held it tight against her chest. It couldn’t be – not again. What could that woman possibly want now?
. . . . . . . . . .
♫♫ Carolann ♫♫

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