Turns out Miss Bruce was logging community service hours just a few blocks away from home this week. One of Philadelphia's Finest found her cradling a man, his makeshift crackpipe, and his beer stench early this morning on 7th and Wolf.
Here I thought she was lost and gone forever and all she was doing was helping those less fortunate than she. My silly silver social servant. What a fabulous little wench! Like a one woman Salvation Army she is, filled to the brim with selflessness and the holiday spirit.
Aside from the smell and a minor scratch, she is safe and whole and will be completely detailed before we put Jake in there. I think I read somewhere that crack residue is terrible for little lungs.
Back on the block, ready to raise hell.