So my partner and I are at the donut shop scarfing down a few dozen when a call comes over the radio, "We've got a 415, Disturbing the Peace...454 Wiltshire Ave...all available units please respond..."

We jump up and run to our car, hoping for a little excitement in our usually calm neighborhood, and speed to the scene with sirens blaring.

As we're pulling up to the address, my partner and I hear this god-awful screeching coming from one of the backyards.  Either someone was sticking a pig, or somebody was getting hurt-a-real-bad.  We look at each other, draw our tasers, and call for back-up.

Once the rest of the boys show up, we get organized and storm the back yard where we find a portly couple caught in the throws of passion in their hot tub.  After taking in the scene before me, I try to muster up the courage to break it up, thinking that I should probably call Greenpeace to come and push the whale caught on the edge of the hot tub, back into the water.

My partner rushes in, lifts the lady's gut off the guy's head and pulls him out by the hair.  I throw up a little in my mouth and join in the fray. 

It was one of the grossest things I've had to deal with in my career.  Fat, balding dude with his erect little pecker poking out from beneath his sagging gut, hooting and hollering something about it being "his turn".

Just as I'm thinking that the night couldn't get any worse, I spot out the corner of my eye the hot little neighbor, staring over at me from her porch, licking her lips and flashing me a sly smile.

"Um...you boys finish up here.." I say.  "I'm going to make sure the neighbors are alright..."

Being a suburban cap ain't easy...but somebody's got to do it.