Danny woke up. Hangover. Headache. Sirens. Sirens bad!
He got up suddenly and hit his head on the table. He fell back and landed on the broken glass again. He'd been sleeping on the kitchen floor. He felt immense pain in his forehead, back, and hands. He felt extremely tired like he'd been sleeping for one hour after being awake for two days. He remembered almost nothing of the day before. And yet these were further from his mind than the one issue that haunted him.
Get the hell out of here, Danny!
He raced to the door and tore it open, running like an insane chihuahua, like he never learned how. Just run, Danny.
"Freeze!" a voice shouted. Two patrol cars were parked lengthwise on his lawn and four officers were behind them guns pointed. As if Danny posed a threat to them. He slipped and fell, his shoe flying of his foot and landing on top of one of the cars. He lay there on his back for a moment.
"I'm lying on dog poop!" he exclaimed loudly. Two of the officers eased towards him, so he got up and continued running. He could feel the mound of crap cascade off his back.
"No!" he shouted, maintaining his idiotic bound away from the much more fit officers of the law. "All I wanted was for everything to be clean."
They grabbed his arms. His shirt sleeves ripped and came off in their hands.
"This is my favourite shirt!" he shouted. One tackled him.
"Danny Tanner, you are under arrest for the murder of Kimmy Gibler." Danny wriggled from his grip, but didn't really go anywhere. He only managed to look like a beached seal with a fist clenching its tail. The other officer landed on him and the cuffs went on.
"You have the right to remain silent. If you refuse this right-"
He screamed a loud blood-curdling scream that sounded more like an air horn than a human voice. The officer clenched Danny's mouth shut.
"You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will . . . hey!"
Danny rolled on his side and again tried to wriggle away. With his handcuffs on, he wasn't going anywhere. The cops stood and let him wriggle for a while and it wasn't long before he recognized the futility of it. He looked up. People were staring at him. He was humiliated in front of the entire neighbourhood. And from the sight of a camera focused on him, the entire country.
He resigned, letting himself go limp. "Can I go to jail now?"
He got up suddenly and hit his head on the table. He fell back and landed on the broken glass again. He'd been sleeping on the kitchen floor. He felt immense pain in his forehead, back, and hands. He felt extremely tired like he'd been sleeping for one hour after being awake for two days. He remembered almost nothing of the day before. And yet these were further from his mind than the one issue that haunted him.
Get the hell out of here, Danny!
He raced to the door and tore it open, running like an insane chihuahua, like he never learned how. Just run, Danny.
"Freeze!" a voice shouted. Two patrol cars were parked lengthwise on his lawn and four officers were behind them guns pointed. As if Danny posed a threat to them. He slipped and fell, his shoe flying of his foot and landing on top of one of the cars. He lay there on his back for a moment.
"I'm lying on dog poop!" he exclaimed loudly. Two of the officers eased towards him, so he got up and continued running. He could feel the mound of crap cascade off his back.
"No!" he shouted, maintaining his idiotic bound away from the much more fit officers of the law. "All I wanted was for everything to be clean."
They grabbed his arms. His shirt sleeves ripped and came off in their hands.
"This is my favourite shirt!" he shouted. One tackled him.
"Danny Tanner, you are under arrest for the murder of Kimmy Gibler." Danny wriggled from his grip, but didn't really go anywhere. He only managed to look like a beached seal with a fist clenching its tail. The other officer landed on him and the cuffs went on.
"You have the right to remain silent. If you refuse this right-"
He screamed a loud blood-curdling scream that sounded more like an air horn than a human voice. The officer clenched Danny's mouth shut.
"You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will . . . hey!"
Danny rolled on his side and again tried to wriggle away. With his handcuffs on, he wasn't going anywhere. The cops stood and let him wriggle for a while and it wasn't long before he recognized the futility of it. He looked up. People were staring at him. He was humiliated in front of the entire neighbourhood. And from the sight of a camera focused on him, the entire country.
He resigned, letting himself go limp. "Can I go to jail now?"
Danny served ten years of a life sentence and was released on parole. While he was in prison, Joey and Jesse took care of the children. He didn't at all need to worry about money there, and until he was released he didn't have to worry about getting another job. Even then he lived comfortably. Jesse released a CD that was being made fun of across the country, Joey had a bit part in a sitcom, and the video of Danny's frantic attempt to escape from the police went on to win ten thousand dollars on America's Funniest Home Videos.