A couple of Des Moines cops drew a crucial crime-fighting assignment. Armed with tactical video equipment, they deployed to the Ingersoll Theatre to watch the old-timey burlesque show -- like the one your great grandpa snuck into after telling Great Gram he was heading for Oddfellows Hall.
The infiltrating Only Ones had orders to capture evidence of exposure of a nipple or "anything below." They got it.
As one of the dancers tells the tale, she was doing a classic balloon dance when a Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction victimized her. A bubble accidentally popped, giving the leering audience a flash of pastie.
The cops left. They "reviewed" the tape for a long time. (Stop smirking). They returned to write the citations. The dancers will talk to the ACLU. Our courts are bracing for the Trial of the Century.
I don't know about you, but this assault on public titillation certainly fills me with a renewed appreciation for my government's dedication to, at any cost, shielding me from impurity.
Des Moines city fathers promised that their new robotic speed and stop-light cameras would compensate for their rape of the 14th Amendment by freeing police for more vital duties. Voila.