You had just been accused of theft, breaking and entering, and destruction of private property. The police took you to the station and sat you down in an empty room with a table and 2 chairs on both sides. You were sat down at one of them.

You wondered who the cop or detective who was gonna question you was gonna be. How you would manipulate them (or convince them you really are innocent) and your dad walked in. He knew how to read you like a book.

“Again. Really? The hell is wrong with you.”