Pole:
Here's another one! Again, we do not own these guys. Sigh.
A Q-tip swabbed the pole on which the victim had been killed. The plastic casing was pulled up and the top lid was closed.
"God, this is so gross," input Lindsay Monroe, making a face. "Did he have to gut her?"
"Apparently," replied Stella Bonasera blandly.
On the other side of the room, Detective Don Flack interviewed and interrogated traumatized, distraught strip-pole dancers.
"Having fun, Flack?" Danny Messer commented slyly while passing by.
"Loads," Don rolled his eyes, grinning.
A tad bit later, they had found the suspect's house. Danny and Don got out of the car and headed towards the door. On the way, Don pulled out his notepad to review a few things.
"Ay, whoa! Flack, watch where you are going!" Danny warned as he pulled Don away from the light pole.
Once inside the apartment, they both pulled out their guns. Danny went one way while Don went the other. Suddenly, there was a dull 'thunk' sound and a pained groan. Danny whipped his head towards the direction of the noise, frantically making his way to Don.
Danny found Don clutching his head leaning against the wall next to the door. The culprit was a pole going horizontally across the door frame most people use for pull-ups. Danny patted his friend on the shoulder.
"I got a joke for you: So, this detective walks into a bar…"