By Wakefield Mahon
The first thing George noticed was the stench. "Hey Doug, you need to get in here."
"What'd you find?"
He stared in horror at the body, lying in the pool of red.
George rubbed his temples. "That's disgusting. This kind of mess is not what I want to see first thing in the morning."
"Oh I don't know, I kind of like it."
George shot his rookie partner a glare. "You're a sick man."
"I'm just saying; there are worse things. Who do you think could have caused this?"
"It had to be some of the frat boys. I wouldn't be surprised if they were all involved."
"Are you just going to leave her there?"
"You're inexperience is showing Doug. Do you have any idea how much trouble we could get into for touching her?"
The body twitched. A growl rumbled from her throat as the girl sat up.
"Oh man," she said. "What happened? Why are you guys here?"
"This is the student union," George said. We could ask you the same thing."
The young woman ran her fingers through the clots of red in her usually blonde hair. "I remember beer, then tequila Jell-O shots, and then somebody suggested Jell-O wrestling." She looked around. "Wow what a mess."
"We ought to make you stay and clean it up," Doug said.
"Go on, get out of here, ma'am." George sighed and shook his head. "Remind me never to take a janitorial job at a party school again."