Bill didn’t want to be holding this baby any longer. He didn’t like holding his own kids when they were this young, he certainly didn’t want to hold his awful partner’s baby. Bill selected “holds” and began to type something else, only for the baby to kick, knocking the phone out of his hands.
Suddenly, Bill was shirtless, with the baby sucking on one of his breasts. Wait, breasts? First, he can’t get his member back, now he’s got boobs? Bill quickly grabbed his phone. “Holds” had been replaced with an autocorrected “breastfeeds”. Bill swore.
“Hey, watch your language around the kid,” Roger barked. Bill looked over. His partner was back to normal, sitting in the driver’s seat fully clothed. It was like he hadn’t just given birth. “If you talk like that, I’m not letting you come on patrol with me anymore.”
Bill tried to remove the baby from his breast, but the baby resisted, suckling harder. Roger began to drive again. When the baby finished with the first breast, Bill moved him to the other. He didn’t want to drag this whole thing on, but his breasts were so full of milk, they hurt. Finally, the baby finished with the other breast. Acting on muscle memory he didn’t realize he had, Bill burped the baby, put his shirt back on, and generated a new sentence on his phone.
It read “Lyle’s wet-nurse is on patrol with his father.” Apparently, Lyle was the name of Roger’s son. Bill tried to think of a way out of this situation. He didn’t want to be a wet-nurse, especially since it seemed to have made him no longer a cop.