report

“Tillyville Police Department. This is Officer McDon—”

“This is Mrs. Harper Lampoosh. Of Welk’s Landing. I want to report a noise.”

“Yes, Mrs. Lampoosh. What sort of noise?”

“A disturbing noise, Officer McDon! Why else would I report it?”

“Well, I don’t know, Mrs. Lampoosh. Perhaps you—”

“Now don’t take that tone with me, young man. I know a disturbing noise when I hear one.”

“I’m sure you do, Mrs. Lampoosh. But if you could just give us a little more information. Something to go on. This noise—is it loud? Is it a report?”

“A report?”

“Yes. A report. Like a—”

“Good heavens, Officer McDon. A report! That’s so silly. Then I would have had to say, ‘I want to report a report.’ How redundant! No, this noise is a noise, not a report. This report is a report. A report of a noise. An odd noise. A mysterious noise. A strange, eerie, weird, disturbing noise, and it seems to be coming from the basement. It seems to be coming … nearer. It seems to be—oh, good heavens, it seems to be—”

“Okay, Mrs. Lampoosh. We’ll send someone out to investigate. I’ll just need to get—Mrs. Lampoosh …. Mrs. Lampoosh? You still there, Mrs. Lampoosh?”