"Jim? Sure, he was here Tuesday."

"....I can't accept your word for it, Sam. I'm afraid your bar's got a, um, a reputation."

"A good reputation?"

"Not exactly, no, It's a reputation for... for getting dates mixed up, shall we say. Can you prove that Jim was here Tuesday?"

"Sure," I nod. "We got a new security camera system, let's give it a try, shall we?" I turn on the computer and speak into the microphone. "Computer, print the picture of Jim enjoying a drink at the bar last Tuesday, please."

The computer hums, and extrudes a piece of paper. The detective grabs it before I can see it and studies it intensely.

".....I see that your bar had a few planets indoors Tuesday," he says.

"Look, if people wanna decorate for some party..."

"And I see that Jim has apparently regrown his pinkie. Oh, in fact, he has six fingers on that hand now?"

"You got your photo evidence. Was there anything else you wanted, Detective?"

"Photo evidence, no." The detective drops the printout. "This image was drawn by AI, wasn't it?"