On a random summer day back in high school;

cops, just mowing down cops. Black, white, red, speckled bits of adipose tissue, blood, everywhere. My best friend and I loved it. Killing cops with a riding lawn (law?) mower.

But the biggest danger facing police is donut-inspired Type 2 diabetes. Hi, I'm John Deere, on behalf of "Mowing Down Diabetes". Analysis of cop gore revealed high blood sugar and

a Twinke addiction. Our theory is that the rampage started when the suspect learned about Hostess's bankruptcy filing. The filing threatened the creamy filling and

was about to bring the house down when the suspect learnt that the hostess was actually a host in drag. "This is all about the creamy filling, isn't it?" he asked angrily and

awkward silence ensued about his outburst. The guests looked at their Hostess snack cakes. The host was fooling nobody in that makeup. The suspect crossed his arms, waiting for an

awesomely large saber tooth tiger to appear. Suddenly, it did! The tiger chewed off the head of the host and ate up all of the snack cakes. Then, the suspect died of a mysterious

tiger-related disorder. Suddenly I was the only suspect. Despite being the sheriff, I had to cuff myself and haul my ass to jail. But an urge to be free engulfed me. I socked mysel

f in the jaw but then I kicked myself in the crotch and dropped to my knees. Before I could catch my breath, I pushed my face into the gravel. My sheriff's badge ripped my shirt as

I shoved my hands behind my head. "You're under arrest!" I told myself. "I'm innocent!" I cried as I cuffed myself & was shoved roughly into the backseat of the cruiser. Why? WHY?!