A police officer pulled over a car for speeding and approached the driver’s side window.
Officer: “Sir, may I see your drivear’s license?”
Driver: “I don’t have one. Got suspended after my fifth DUI.”
The officer narrowed his eyes. Not good.
Officer: “Alright… can I see the registration for this vehicle?”
Driver: “Not my car. I st*le it.”
The officer stiffened. This just got worse.
Officer: “You’re telling me this car is st*len?”
Driver: “Yep. But now that you mention it, I think I saw the owner’s registration in the glove box—right next to my g*n.”
Officer: “There’s a G*N in the glove box?!”
Driver: “Yes, sir. That’s where I put it after I sh*t the woman who owns this car and st*ffed her in the trunk.”
The officer backed away slowly and immediately called for backup. Within minutes, multiple squad cars arrived, lights flashing. The captain himself stepped out, approaching cautiously.
Captain: “Sir, may I see your license?”
The driver shrugged and handed it over. It was valid.
Captain: “And this car? Who does it belong to?”
Driver: “Me, of course. Here’s the registration.”
The captain examined the papers—everything checked out.
Captain: “Would you mind opening the glove box? We were told there’s a gun in there.”
Driver: “Sure, but there’s no g*n.”
The officer opened the glove box. Empty.
Captain: “Alright… now, can you pop the trunk?”
The driver complied. The trunk swung open—completely empty. No sign of a b*dy.
The captain turned to his officer, arms crossed. “I don’t get it. This officer said you told him you didn’t have a license, st*le the car, had a g*n in the glove box, and a b*dy in the trunk.”
The driver shook his head and smirked.
Driver: “Yeah, and I bet the liar told you I was speeding too!”
