Bandit quickly reached over and hooked his paw through the steering wheel and yanked them back into their lane, and then across it and slightly onto the sidewalk while Caleb panicked and pumped the brakes as they came to rest with one wheel up on the sidewalk. Traffic passed by as the squad car settled into a parking spot on the side of the street by slowly rolling off the curb. Bandit let go and sat back down in his seat and stared at Caleb, who stared back with wide eyes and gaping mouth.

"You didn't check your blind spot before you parked," Caleb sputtered, his only comment as he shifted the car into park, but left it running, if only out of dumbfoundation.

"I'm sorry that it was the least of our problems, Caleb," Bandit smirked and stared ahead out the windshield.

"Dios mío," Caleb muttered, and pointed to his bandages on his head. "It's the concussion, isn't it? I'm dying, aren't I?"

"Well, I'm not a doctor," Bandit said with a befuddled tone. "Considering your style of driving, that will be the kinder way to go."

"I drive perfectly when talking dogs aren't distracting me," Caleb countered. "How? How are you talking? Could you always talk?"

"I'm not sure how, and this is my first time," Bandit affirmed. "It's been a strange day."

"I'm dying," Caleb said while looking in the rear-view mirror at himself. "Am I dead already? Are you going to eat my corpse?"

"Gross."

"Well, you're a dog. I'm talking to a dog."

"Calm down," Bandit admonished. "I don't know what's happening either. Can you show a little empathy?"

"I suppose I had to know this could happen," Caleb said, more to himself and ignoring Bandit. "My parents were Bigfoot conspiracy nuts. I grew up as a believer. I had a poster of Nessie. Maybe this is an opportunity in disguise."

"Alright, please tell the Chief that I'd like to switch onto a partner who isn't crazy," Bandit replied.

"You are in no place to make demands," Caleb looked at him with bewilderment. "You're a dog."

"Racist," came Bandit's terse reply, which Caleb also ignored.

"Maybe this is just a hallucination, or a dream," he went on. "Maybe I should just take the next right turn at that corner and head to the pound to drop you off."

"You wouldn't dare," Bandit stiffened.

"I guess not," Caleb admitted. "That would be hard to explain."

"Glad to hear, partner," Bandit scoffed.

"Wait a minute," Caleb thought for a moment. "If you can talk and you clearly have human level intelligence, why are you the worst dog on the force?"

"Well, now that just hurts-"

"No, seriously."

"Well, I wasn't like this this morning!" Bandit's tone was reaching hysterical levels. "I was just a normal dog, I think. I can't remember what it felt like, but it wasn't this. It was more blissful. Then I was in that subway looking for your perp, and I saw this most brilliant light. It swallowed me up and made me whole. There was another dog through this glimmering portal, and I could see another entire world of a lush jungle, and a giant glowing rock. This green dust got breathed on me and it wrapped around me... I don't remember much else after that. I had a sensory overload, and I must have passed out. I woke up like this, but I didn't know I could talk until I did."

"Wow," Caleb had sat listening to the story with reverence. "If that's true, that would be an amazing story. Not that I doubt it, but I've lived here my whole life and I never heard of anything like that in the subway tunnel. We were just there today, and didn't see it. Is that what you were looking for?"

"Yes. It's gone. I don't have any proof of my story except my own sentience," Bandit's ears drooped and he looked solemnly out the window.

"D-do you want to be like this? If you could go back to being a normal dog, would you?" Caleb asked in a moment of deep thought.

"I really don't know. I think I would need more time before I could say one way or the other. I don't feel particularly bad. I just don't feel like myself," Bandit replied after a moment of thought. "You seem to be taking this better."

"That's because I'm convinced this is the concussion," he said as he put the car back into drive and prepared to pull out onto the street. As he did so, he added, "I'm just going to ride this out, have a huge headache tomorrow, and you'll no longer be talking."

"Sure," Bandit muttered. "Whatever you say. Hey, isn't the Academy back that way?"

"Yeah, but we're heading to the precinct. You don't need rehab training, but we can pick up another case. I could use another feather in my cap to take away today's sting, and you're a ringer. However long this talking thing lasts, I don't want to waste it."

"You're using me?" Bandit gasped, appalled.

"Well, I was using you before, but that was rather ineffective," Caleb pointed out. "Plus, I saw you looking at the K-9 Hall of Fame. I know you want this too. We can be a good team as long as we communicate. We can fix both our careers."

"If you say so," Bandit relented. "Good luck explaining your change of heart to the Chief."

"Just leave that to me. Also, it might not be wise to talk in front of anyone else. I mean, I'm cool with it, sort of, but until this hallucination wears off we should keep it on the down-low," Caleb commented as he drove carefully back towards the precinct. "You work on getting your head in the game. I don't know what your problem was before, but it would be silly to let little things hold us back now."

"Yeah, silly little things," Bandit whispered as he looked forlornly out the window at the passing urban scenery. Even though he had the power of human speech now, how could he possibly explain what he had felt before to his new partner, and that sentience wasn't a cure-all for any mental or emotional ill?