It was a peaceful—if painfully cramped—ride home for the most part. Rusty drove along Argyle Road, which wove through the woods before finally opening up to the farmlands of rural Grynwell County, and turning south. They passed through the little town of Tinsmelt, which was totally dead that night, save for street lights and a bank clock which read 3:22 AM.
Then, when they were almost back in Wacovia, Chrome Bumper spoke.
"Dude, I like, just realized something."
"What's that?" asked Susie.
"What do you think happened to that like, Eno guy we saw earlier?"
"Who?" asked Lorelei.
"We met some weirdo named Brian Eno out in the woods," said Rusty.
"Brian Eno's an acclaimed music producer," said Clarence.
"Well he's still weird," said Rusty.
Meanwhile, the two officers Clarence and Lorelei called earlier had found somebody to arrest that night after all…
"Officers, if you would please just let me explain; I am Brian—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said the tall skinny one, who was driving, "you told us already. Tell it to the judge."
"Will you at least take good care of my tape recorder?" Mr. Eno pleaded. "It is very delicate and expensive, and I would hate to be forced to purchase another."
"That's going to be held as evidence," said the short fat one.
"Dude," said the tall skinny officer to the short fat one, "ever consider shaving the beard?"
"What?" asked the short fat one, "No way! The beard's the source of my charm."
"Ah, you're right. Definitely don't wanna lose that beard-charm," said the tall skinny one as he drove them back to the station.