Feburary 8, 2005 Heads will roll.

An unannounced visit to 'Nofre yesterday for a "Beach Tour",
from Haw'n Gardens to Dogscratch, with Lieutenant Dairywimple,
clutching his clip-boards. Ranger Ephriam was not invited. Tour started
at 9:00 AM sharp, lasting two hours. They selected the homemade
unsightly picnic table, sat down, went over notes. Superintendent Ballard,
nodded his head in approval. "Ranger, it looks as if you run a tight ship here."
Before Dairywimple could answer, 8-ball comes speeding down the "muddy
dirt road" spiraling clods of slop, slams on his brakes, brodies into the log forty
feet in front of Ballard and Dairywimple, jumps out of the station wagon, arms
full of gallons of wine, the kind with glass hooks for chug-a-lugging, "Trader
Joe's here. Party time! "Both, Ballard and Dairywimple appear stunned, "
What do we have here, Dairywimple?" said Ballard. Dairywimple replied,
"I don't, sir, but we better find out." Dairywimple unhooked his 9mm. "Hold
it right there, 8-ball. Freeze!" Shocked, 8-ball simply says, "Who, me?"
This comes as an absolulute surprise to the beach bums, waiting for the daily
freebie. "Felony prone, Cueball, don't move," said Dairywimple. Ballard
walks over placing a boot on 8-ball's head. "There's no drinking alcohol on
this beach, and there's no glass containers," said Ballard, "Read him his rights
and book him, Dairywimple." I think the Rangers mean business this year,
especially after tripling the dues

Written by Harding Institute of Sobriety
BRUCE SAVAGE SAND ASSOCIATES