When the Lord was creating peace officers, he was into his sixth day of
overtime when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling
around on this one."

And the Lord said, "Have you read the spec on this order?

A peace officer has to be able to run five miles through alleys in the
dark, scale walls, enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch, and
not wrinkle his uniform.

"He has to be able to sit in an undercover car all day on a stakeout,
cover a homicide scene that night, canvass the neighborhood for witnesses,
and testify in court the next day.
"He has to be in top physical condition at all times, running on black
coffee and half-eaten meals.  And he has to have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands... no way."

"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord, "it's
the three pairs of eyes an officer has to have."

"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.

The Lord nodded.  One pair that sees through a bulge in a pocket before he
asks, "May I see what's in there, sir?" (When he already knows and wishes
he'd taken that accounting job.)  "Another pair here in the side of his
head for his partners' safety.  And another pair of eyes here in front
that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say, 'You'll be all
right ma'am', when he knows it isn't so."

"Lord," said the angel, touching his sleeve, "rest and work on this
tomorrow."
"I can't," said the Lord, "I already have a model that can talk a 250
pound drunk into a patrol car without incident and feed a family of five
on a civil service paycheck."

The angel circled the model of the peace officer very slowly, "Can it
think?" she asked.

"You bet," said the Lord.  "It can tell you the elements of a hundred
crimes; recite Miranda warnings in its sleep; detain, investigate, search,
and arrest a gang member on the street in less time than it
takes five learned judges to debate the legality of the stop... and still
it keeps its sense of humor.
This officer also has phenomenal personal control.  He can deal with crime
scenes painted in hell, coax a confession from a child abuser, comfort a
murder victim's family, and then read in the daily paper how
law enforcement isn't sensitive to the rights of criminal suspects."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the
peace officer.  "There's a leak," she pronounced.  "I told you that you
were trying to put too much into this model."

"That's not a leak," said the Lord, "it's a tear."

"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.

It's for bottled-up emotions, for fallen comrades, for commitment to that
funny piece of cloth called the American flag, for justice."

"You're a genius," said the angel.

The Lord looked somber.  "I didn't put it there," he said.

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