She walks into your office with long legs and a face.
“My husband’s having an affair,” she says.
“I’ll take the case,” you say.
The two of you have sex. On the desk?
A week later you confront her because her husband’s dead and you’ve been framed for the murder.
“Yeah,” she says. “Yup.”
The two of you have sex. Against the file cabinet?
Using your detective skills you find out this murder affects all branches of government in every country, even Philadelphia.
“Walk away,” President Obama says to you.
“Fine,” you say.
The two of you have sex. In the Oval Office?
Happy You’re a Private Detective Day!
