...and found a small bag of class A drugs. “It’s not my fault,” I said, “Every time I try flushing them down the toilet they magically appear back in my pocket again.” “Do you really expect me to believe that?” he laughed. I said, “I’ll prove it to you if you want me to!” “Go on then.” He smiled, handing me the bag. After flushing them, he looked at me and said, “Well, show me your pocket then.” “What for?” I asked. He said, “The drugs.” I said, “What drugs?
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