A Brush With the Law (or How Not to Steal a French Fry)

"Hey, Buddy. You hungry?"

"Starving. Let's go grab a bite."

"JBCs?"

"Sure."

The two men set out to find food. After a long and arduous trek (across the street) they arrived at popular fast-food joint.

"I'll take a double junior bacon cheeseburger. Large fries. Coke."

"Same for me. Hold the mayo, please."

"That'll just be a few minutes, folks."

The men leaned against the counter, talking, laughing, impatiently waiting for their food. The server set several trays out on the counter. She poured drinks. She added burgers and ketchup. She turned to help the next customer in line.

"Man, I'm starving! Hope they bring our fries soon."

The hungry man turned to his buddy to tell him a joke. Caught up in his storytelling, he barely acknowledged the server as she returned with several steaming orders of fries.

"Finally!"

The hungry man reached across the counter and grabbed a couple of fries from a tray. He popped them in his mouth. His friend stopped laughing.

"Dude. Those aren't your fries."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, this is your tray. That tray there ... it's his."

The hungry man slowly turned, an apology waiting on his lips. He eyes met those of a tall, muscular, deadly-serious man. A man in uniform. A man with a gun clipped to his belt.

He gulped. "Umm, I'm really sorry officer."

"Just don't let it happen again."

Lesson to be learned: Keep your eyes on your own tray. And never, ever steal a fry from a man with a gun.