We Are So Screwed

"I'm sorry.... officer...? But I don't remember anything after the impact. Like I said before; we were driving home from the movies when-"

"What movie?"

"We've already been over this. Transformers: Dark of the-"

"And what is this ‘Transformers' movie about?"

"Well I would tell you if you would kindly stop talking and let me finish a fucking statement," I said with a slightly irritated smirk.

"Miss, I don't have time for this. Please just tell me what your friend..." He looked down at a file in his hand before continuing. "Blake said after the crash."

"I've already told you; I don't fucking know! All I remember is the crash, Blake getting knocked out by the frame of the driver side door, and slamming my shoulder into the windshield, yes I was wearing a seat belt, it snapped. Then-" He tried to interrupt, but I blatantly ignored him and continued with my recount of the crash. "-smacking my nose off of the windshield and everything went black. I wake up here, and you're standing over me asking questions I don't know the answer to.”

He sighed and walked out. Then I heard, "Simmons! Get in there! Talk some sense into Blondie!"

I cocked my head to the side and thought about it for a second. ‘ Hm, the first guy who questioned me looked a lot like Tom Banachek from the movie, now they're sending someone named 'Simmons' in... Coincidence?’ I thought about my situation as voices argued outside of my door.

An agent walked in, "Miss, Hunt, is it?"

"That depends, who the fuck wants to know?" Usually I'm more professional and or business-like when talking to authority figures, the three months of law school I actually attended helped with that, but this shit was getting old.

"I'll take that as a yes," he replied. "So my colleague tells me you're being difficult, says you won't talk. Well your friend spilled everything, so go ahead; tell me what happened." He smirked, looking proud of himself.

"Hmm, she told you everything?"

He nodded.

"Every single thing that happened?"

He nodded again.

“Hm, well that's rather interesting because the main point of impact occurred to her left, and I do remember her being knocked out by the frame of the car, shortly before I was knocked out from slamming the bridge of my nose off of the windshield."

"You didn't tell my coll-"

"Actually, I did, he started talking over me and must not have heard me," I cut him off.

"Anyway, I would love to leave, and I would love to take my friend with me. We did nothing wrong, we were in our lane, going the limit, and the light was green, whoever hit us is at fault and you have no legal right to keep us here. And don't bother saying that it's a 'matter of national security' because you have no proof that we saw or heard anything out of the ordinary."

He held a hand up. "Now stop right there, I suggest you learn some manners Blondie."

I held my right hand up, the one that wasn't in a sling. "And I suggest you learn some manners Mr. Simmons, I have a name, I urge you to use it in the future, and now I suggest that you get a nurse or someone who has the power to release us to do exactly that, release us. If you don't, I promise you that I will sue your ass so hard your balls will retract into your abdomen, your mom will kick you out of her basement and an orangutan with dyslexia will be putting its misspelled name tag on your office door."

"How did you know I lived in my mom's... Never mind." He shook his head and walked out, sending a nurse in to unhook my from my monitors.

’Simmons looks and acts exactly like the Simmons from the movie... And he lives with his mother. This shit is weird... I wonder what's going on with Blake.’