I'm parked in the lot of one of the two Stab-n-Grabs in town, catching up on some paperwork, when the local teenage hell-raiser screams by on the highway, arm out the window and grinning like a chimp as he gives me the finger.
Naturally, I cut in behind him, and follow for about two blocks before I turn on the lights and pull him over.
I walk up to the door, and gently ask for his drivers licence, insurance and registration.
"What for?" he asks, all innocent.
"Because I asked for it." I reply, equally innocent.
He gives me the requested documents, I walk back to the Super Scooter and check him and his pickup for wants and warrants. All clear -- for once.
I walk back to the driver's side door, flip open my Book of Citations and begin writing.
He looks at me, sputters a bit, then yaps, "You can't write me a ticket!"
"Why not?" I ask, filling in Block 9.
"Because you can't!"
"The answer 'because' doesn't work on my nieces and nephews," I answer, X-ing Block 23, "Articulate a reason."
"You're a cop! My daddy says you can't be insulted by anything!"
"That is correct." I sign with a flourish.
"So you can't write me for flipping you off. I'm not signing that."
"Correct. How-some-ever, this is not a ticket for flipping me off. You extended your left arm horizontally out of the drivers side window."
"So, anyone who passed Drivers Education should know that an extended left arm is a signal for a left turn. You failed to turn left. Sign here, this is not a plea of guilty, it is merely a promise to appear in court."
"You're ticketing me for ILLEGAL USE OF A TURN SIGNAL?!"
I am SO going to hell for that one.
He paid it, though.