The gangland baseball star established a huge mafia umpire. Of course, he won’t say a word about his past hits: He follows the code of homerta, and brushes off all allegations as baseless. But he has been seen patrolling the alleys, and out of left field, he takes a swing at the pitcher. ‘Don’t try to put one past a man with three balls,’ he gloats. Despite facing the heat for two controversial strikes–and repeatedly ending up in foul territory–he ends up walking. Of course, the other guys balk. The next inning he decides to stick a cap on a fan. This time the hard liners get to him. So he winds up in the pen. Before, he would feast on sliders, but now he kills time sacrificing flies and collecting booze tins on his mickey mantle. Some say he dabbles in CyYoungtology. During this short stop, he pulls off a deadly sidearm delivery. He rallies, ends up running all the bases, and despite being violently tagged, he makes it home, safe. The truth of the matter? You could ask the catcher, but the catcher knows squat.
How do you execute a king? Royal him alive.
Hear about the businessman turned serial killer?
He was obsessed with stalk options!
When I set up an illegal clam bar I was accused of mollusc-station.
How did the arsonist afford his plane ticket?
He redeemed his frequent fire points!
I used to put wine in my corn flakes. Then they arrested me on account of I was a cereal grapist.
Bill Cosby’s stockbroker should be punished too. He was a trader to the Cos.
In South America, medicine is so corrupt. Even joint replacement surgeries are controlled by the Columbian cartelage.
A mugger attacked me with a sharp tool, but I knocked him out with a stale baguette. This proves that loaf conquers awl.
The detective fingered the cattle rustler, figuring he had probable cows.