by J. Paxton

Created on: December 14, 2008

In high school, my dear friend Katie would often set up elaborate shoots for the photography class we were in together. Her assignment this time was to tell a story through her pictures. She arrived at the idea of a shooting a fairy tale, much to the delight of her models (aka her friends). And so the parts and costumes were doled out and we headed to our destination: the local park, with the huge wooden play structure that could possibly pass for a medieval castle.

The shoot went marvelously, and we hopped back into our respective cars. Here is where I need to introduce our cast of characters in my car:

Katy, a fiery, hyper-anxious redhead, who was in black velvet head to toe, and could possibly be considered either a witch (what she was going for) or a member of some local cult (not quite what she was going for).

Craig, my timid boyfriend, playing Prince Charming, cape on his back and wooden sword in his hand.

Myself, the "nursemaid", who was represented with a dress that I'm pretty sure came from Salvation Army and a pillowcase fashioned into a headpiece.

And our fearless driver, and king, Mike. Mike is that eccentric friend that everyone has; the one who will either end up in jail or win a Nobel Prize. He had lovingly customized his vehicle (a big blue van that looked like it would be used to transport immigrants over the boarder) with photos of John McCain, bottles of milk, and some of his own drawings laminated onto the windows. Let's return to the story.

We started to make the short drive back; we probably could've walked the distance if it wasn't so cold out. About 30 seconds into what should've been about a 75 second journey, it happened.

The lights. The sirens.

We all chuckled a little at the predicament, being pulled over in the Mike Mobile, dressed as we were. However, Mike himself, who is usually the first to laugh at inappropriate situations, looked terrified. "I don't have my license."

We all immediately stopped laughing and fell into silence until-

"What do you MEAN you don't have-" Katy could reach unbelievable pitches when she was worked up. However, the officer standing at the window caused even her to stop mid-screech.

Mike slowly rolled down the window. "Hello officer," he said, unconciouscly reaching up to readjust his crown.

The cop opened his mouth, then promptly shut it. He raised an eyebrow, then slowly poked his head in the window, taking in the scene. I managed a pathetic smile and pitily waved as my pillowcase flopped down over one eye. After

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