“It’s not safe to cross,” he said with unwavering rigidity. “You will need to wait a minute.” His face was cold, uncaring.
“You can’t tell me what to do!” Heather said with lips pursed, head bobbing, and finger pointed to the sky. “I do what I want, and no man will tell me otherwise.” Heather proceeded into the street, the palm of her hand outstretched toward the rude man. “I do what I want,” she repeated.
Heather was hit by an oncoming city bus.
Moral of the story: Always follow high authority figures, like crossing guards. It could save your life.
“Is there a problem?” the waiter asked.
“I ordered the Avant Garde Macaroni at fifty bucks a bowl, and you gave me Kraft Macaroni and Cheese™!”
The waiter chuckled, “I assure you, sir, that is not Kraft. This macaroni was made with the finest ingredients money can buy.”
The patron hesitantly tasted the pasta in front of him again just to make sure he was not mistaken somehow. “It tastes like cardboard and powered cheese!”
“Of course it does! Do you know how hard it is to make fresh ingredients taste like cardboard and powered cheese? The chef is a genius!”