So there I am, standing in my front yard, tending to my little garden, when suddenly four cop cars come haul-assin' down the street, screech to a stop in front of my house, and, hands on sidearms, come running at me.
If regular medical check-ups and concerns about house-keeping weren't evidence enough that I'd crossed over to the long, gray days of adulthood, how about the fact that my only reaction to being rushed by cops was to think "Gee, I wonder I set the house alarm off?"
Anyway, the cops ran right by me, and into my back yard. And then they ran back out and into the neighbor's back yard. And then they ran out and back into my back yard. This went on for awhile. It seems that they had a malfeasant (of the breaking and entering variety) on the run, and he was hopping fences to escape the somewhat winded arm of the law. Cop cars kept piling onto my block, and keystone cast got larger and larger, until they finally got the guy. Many "thumb's up" signs followed. Hurray for justice!
All I actually saw of the Fence-Jumper was a flash of white T-shirt, so this sketch should not be used as evidence.