“I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you pin that on me?” Hal said.
“Okay, Hal,” the detective said, “who, then, should I pin it on? The donkey?”
“Very funny, detective. Look, I ain’t no big time crime kingpin. I’m just small potatoes and I don’t care who you pin it on,” Hal said, “but I didn’t steal that lady’s pin. In fact, at the time that pin was allegedly stolen, I was down at the Ten Pin Bowling Alley with my buddies.”
“All right, Hal,” the detective said. “I’ll check out your alibi. In the meantime, sit here and stick a pin in it until I get back.”
“Wait detective,” Hal said. “Can you get me a safety pin? I seemed to have lost a button on my shirt sleeve.”
“I can’t give you anything sharp like a pin while you wait here by yourself,” the detective said. “Just roll up your sleeve. You’ll be fine.”
Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt. This week we are asked to use the word “pin” in our responses.
Update: After I wrote this silly post, I remembered that I, like so many adolescent boys, had pinned this classic Farah Fawcett poster on my wall above my bed.