Bright Lights, Big Kitteh: Det. Kitowicz's Treatise on Polygraph Tests

Whatevs.

When reading cases you often come across stories about polygraph tests and how they helped clear some suspect or cast suspicion on some chappy innocent kitteh.  Like that old Angela Hammond case on Unsolved Mysteries, Robert Stack says the boyfriend Rob was under suspicion until he passed a polygraph with flying colors.  Even though at first they didn't believe his story about Angela being dragged from a phone booth while he was on the phone with her.  Do you believe Rob?

How in the name of Fancy Feast is a device with fifty percent accuracy going to clear things up though?  And that's exactly what a polygraph is, it has the same credibility as a coin toss or rock, paper, kitteh litter.  Using a polygraph to clear Rob is like me flipping a quarter to see if Meowahan came to work high on catnip or not.  And he is, one hundred percent of the time, it helps Meowahan deal with his depression, loneliness, and impotence.

You know this about Harry Meowahan.

You are the kitteh detective who sits in the corner reading Jay McInerney novels.  You are Detective Kitowicz.  You are handsome and all the kittehs love you.

You are telling the truth.

You give yourself a polygraph test, hook the wire things up to your arm.

"Do you still cry when you think about Kittehthryn?"

Kittehthryn is your wife.  You never got used to calling her ex, not even after five years.  You don't want to talk about her.

"Answer me," you tell yourself, "do you still love Kittehthryn?"

You say no.

The red lightbulb nose on the polygraph machine's face glows red and buzzes, buzzes louder than your doorbell when death came ringing that morning.

The polygraph device itself is in the shape of Kittehthryn's body.  Her legs shaped perfectly as if they belonged to some marble chair designed by some kind of chair genius.

The needle runs along the borders of the open wounds, the rims of holes cut out of a plastic model of Kittehthryn's body in order to expose her organs, if the needle slips and falls into the hole, her organs will fail all at once, and even though she's plastic and scale-sized Kittehthryn will die all over again.  As long as you don't lie the needle will stay on its course.  You can save her.

"Stop lying to yourself detective Kitowicz," you tell yourself.

Whatevs.  How do you know you are lying?

It's fifty-fifty at best.

No better than chance.

Signed,
Det. Kitowicz