“Identification,” commanded the customs official. The scruffy looking man rooted through his pocket and pulled out a set of papers. He handed them to the official, noting how many cameras there were about.
“Purpose of visit.”
“I am coming to visit friends, yes,” said the humble man quietly.
“Duration of stay.”
“A week at most,” he said politely.
“Occupation.”
“Umm, I am a farmer, yes.”
“Any food in your vehicle.”
“I have a bottle of water and a bag of,” he paused to inspect the bag to be sure to pronounce the name correctly, “Skittles. Oh, and two sandwich.”
“What kind of sandwiches.”
“It is corned beef with cheese, and a turkey with the mayo,” replied the man.
“You’ll have to give it to me.”
“Why? It is my lunch, is it not?” The man was confused.
“You can keep the turkey. You’ll have to give me the corned beef.”
“But why? It is my lunch?”
“I cannot allow foreign beef to enter the United States of America.”
“But you can allow foreign turkey?”
“Yes.”
“That is making no sense.”
“It’s the law.”
“Your law makes no sense. It is but one sandwich. Can I eat it here before I cross into your country?”
“If you do not give me the sandwich now you will not be entering this country.”
“But I am not in your country yet.”
“Close enough. Give me the sandwich.”
“But I can keep the turkey?”
“Yes.”
“That is stupid. I do not comprehend. And the stupider I get…the more Yurt smash!”
And the Yurt smashed the customs station into the ground, and corned beef sandwiches were free from the tyranny of the United States government. The end.
Based on a true story.
