Steve immediately jumped from his booth (well ‘jump’ may be an exaggeration) he looked out the window at the sounds he was hearing. His truck was getting towed! Holy crap!
Steve stumbled out the door and met with an equally fat police office writing a ticket.
“Officer, officer…” Steve was huffing and puffing like crazy.
“Sir are you the owner of this vehicle?” The fat cop asked.
“Yea, it’s mine alright.” Steve answered.
“Well it’s parked in a fire zone and I’m towing it.” The fat cop said strictly.
Steve sighed. “Officer please, you can’t tow my truck. Please officer.”
“I’m sorry sir but it’s my job, I don’t make the rules..”
Steve interrupted him. “I know, I know but I need this truck to get to work and if I miss work I’m gonna get fired and if I’m fired…”
The cop began to show a little bit of sympathy in his eyes. “Alright, I can see your desperate…Listen I won’t tow your car if you can beat me.”
“Excuse me officer, beat you?’”
“Not physically, in an eating contest. I can see you’re a man who likes to eat, and I want to put you to the test.”
The request was bizarre and unheard of but Steve needed his truck. His put his hands on his hugely bloated huge, shifting all the food crammed in it. “Officer, I’ve just eaten two dozen cheese steaks…”
“Then I’m towing your truck sir.”
“No, no wait…I’ll do it.” Steve said reluctantly.
Immediately the officer’s eyes lit up and he put his hand out. Steve quickly shook his hand even though he knew he probably would not win. He was already so stuffed to begin with, his jeans were cutting into his waits like a hot knife and butter…
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