Colour / cropped version of a recent sketch.

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What is this?" said the precinct commander, holding aloft a palm sized digital recorder.

"Suspect 327Fs and 324Ks confessions sir"

"Confessions?" he said indignantly.

Judge Jaws stared at the wall behind the commanders. It was adorned with framed certificates that were in fancy and illegible fonts that made them close to impossible to read.

When no response came he asked again.

"Well?"

"Sorry. It's my first week in the precinct. I thought it would be sufficient."

"Sufficient? It's you reading their rights, a list of the accusations, followed by 5 minutes of yelling, gargling and snapping, and a further 4 minutes of what heavy breathing and moaning"

She couldn't make eye contact.

"Sorry, sir. I-"

"If I had to guess you were juiced up to your eye balls and you don't even remember handing this in."

She said nothing.

"In future, if you are going to pass judgement in the field you require a legible confession of guilt from the target, do you understand? That's how we operate around here. It's not hard. I don't care how you get it. Just get it."

"Yes sir."

Good," he said, placing the recording device inside of his coat breast pocket, "don't let this happen again."

Jaws gave a nod of affirmation.

"Dismissed."

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