I'm waiting for the knock on my door. It's coming, I know it is... I can run, but I can't hide. They will find me, they always do.
I was going through my dirty work aprons today, so I could wash them, and I found.. *gasp* three spoons! in one of the pockets.
Normally, this is a mere warning offense, but lately, the boss has been griping at how quickly spoons are disappearing.
I'm afraid... I know he's called the spoon police. And they will come and take me away...