The younger detective didn't know why they had to act this way. They were given instructions on how to proceed through a manilla envelope with plain black sans serif font, center spaced. A few sentences, with ample vertical space between.

They were supposed to act confident, like they knew what was going on. That it was self explanatory that nobody would dress the way Marc Love did or have blue paint on like he had applied for the party. The young detective had no idea that such characteristics was supposed to mean anything. He did think it was strange for someone to put on blue paint and dress like that. But why all this fuss over it. It wasn't illegal.

The way his boss, the older detective, acted though made it seem like blue paint and that outfit was something more heinous than lillegal. Something that wasn't written into the written law. Instead something that was outlawed through other means. It scared him a bit, but also made him a bit excited. He had been a detective for two years and it had been a boring 730 or so days.

So he went with the charade even though he could see it making the other person, George Baker, nervous.

"So you think the idea just sort of emerged... spontaneously in that social milieu?" the older detective said. George Baker's head nodded without much confidence.