He has lost several pounds of extra flab. He steps out in the unlockdown, well-disguised behind the beard, mask and huge frames of sunglasses. People back home have been waiting for his return.
“You are under arrest, Jekyll” growls the police inspector.
“I’m not Jekyll, there is a mistake in identification,” he mumbles as his raised arms belie the feigned confidence.
“Well, the bifurcated thumb shows from your gloves, and we have several other clues.”