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etired Officer David Hunter of the Knox County (Tennessee) Sheriff’s Department tells this story of two very hungry holdup men:
    After an evening of partying and smoking dope, the two very high potheads decided they would kill two birds with one stone. They were broke, and they had the “munchies,” so they agreed that the best thing to do would be to rob a hamburger joint. Armed with loaded shotguns, they burst through the door of the first place they came upon.
    â€œGive us all the money,” the dim-bulb duo demanded, “and a dozen hamburgers with everything—to go!”
    â€œI’ll get you the money, man,” one frightened employee replied, “but the grill’s already been shut down. It’ll take about ten minutes to reheat.”
    â€œDo it,” came the gunman’s reply. “We’ll wait!”
    Meanwhile, a passing motorist noticed that the two men sitting in the burger shack were holding shotguns. Suspicious indeed. The motorist phoned police.
    â€œHere’s your food,” the shaking worker said.
    The burger bandits grabbed the greasy sack and hit the door just as the sound of police sirens and squealing tires filled the night air. In their haste, they left the stolen money sitting on the table.
    Panicked, the two robbers ran across a highway, slid down an embankment, and tried to hide under a bridge, which is where the K-9 unit found them. The hamburger heist was over.
    â€œWhat really pisses me off,” one man said to the other as they were being led away in handcuffs, “is that those damn dogs ate all our burgers. I didn’t even get one bite!”
    The officer responded, “You ought to be glad those are the only buns the dog bit.”

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    In the Mood
    T rooper Robert Bell shared this story of true romance at a very tender age in the Southeast:
    Bell was headed out to the interstate highway through a small town when he noticed a classic car whipping by at a high rate of speed. It was a ’64 Buick in mint condition. Radar revealed the vehicle was traveling at fifty miles per hour— over the speed limit.
    When Bell closed in on the Buick, the speeder acted as if he might force a chase, but then he abruptly pulled over. Bell approached the idling Buick carefully. When he got to the window, he saw that the driver was an elderly man who appeared to be quite agitated.
    â€œSir,” the trooper said, “were you aware that you were doing eighty-five in a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone?”
    â€œOf course I know how fast I’m going,” the driver snapped. “It’s an emergency!”
    Concerned, the officer asked, “Is it a medical emergency, sir? I can get you to a hospital.”
    The driver’s face reddened. “No, I have to go now. It’s an emergency!”
    â€œWhat’s the emergency, sir? Maybe I can help you.”
    The old gentleman just looked angrier than ever. “I can’t tell you. You’ll laugh at me.”
    Bell tried to reassure him. “I won’t laugh at you, sir. But if you don’t tell me what the emergency is, I’ll have to write you a ticket.”
    The senior speedster finally relented. “You promise not to laugh—man to man?” He was very serious.
    â€œNo, sir,” Bell said. “I promise.”
    â€œWell, son, I’m eighty-two years old, and I haven’t had an erec-uh . . . well, I haven’t been ‘in the mood for love’ for more than two years now. Well, I have an—uh, I’m in the mood right now, and I’m on my way to my girlfriend’s house!”
    Bell was stunned, but only for a moment. “I had never heard that excuse for speeding before and—man to man—well, I had to empathize just a little. So I gave him a police escort.”

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    There’s One Born Every Minute
    C ircus man P. T. Barnum is famous for saying that there’s a sucker born every minute. Retired captain