Oh I have an interesting memory that says otherwise...
Honest to God. Alternate Universe. They call it a worm hole or cyclone or something tornado-ish. And we don't get a handy pair of ruby slippers to jump ship back to the Santa Barbara we both know and love.
We're entertainment to a bored universe. It picks and chooses who it wants and likes to fuck around with us while it's at it.
Check your ID. You took over someone's life. Slobbish interior and all. You might not even be a cop anymore. You could be a construction worker or a postman.