A small-town cop pulls over a guy speeding down Main Street.
“Sir, I can expla—”
“Save it!” barks the officer. “You’re going to jail. You can explain it to the chief when he gets back!”
“But really, I just want to sa—”
“I said ZIP IT! You can cool off in a cell until then.”
Hours pass. The cop swings by the holding cell and smirks, “You’re lucky the chief’s at his daughter’s wedding. He’ll be in a great mood when he gets back.”
The guy grimaces…
“Yeah… don’t count on it. I’m the groom.”
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