“What seems to be the problem, Officer?” I ask.

“License and registration, sir,” he grumbles.

I hand him the papers and note that the officer has a lot of hair on his hands and his breath is foul. I bring my hand up to my face to stop the smell.

“Hands on the wheel,” he says and takes off his sunglasses to read the documents. He’s bearded and his hair is shaggy. Then he does something weird— he sniffs them.

“Officer, is there something wrong?” I ask, taking in the fact that his nose resembles a snout.

“Nothing is wrong. You’re a long way from home. Perfect.”

With those last words, I notice his teeth. Oh God.

Photo by Lennart Tange