You walk over to the balding police officer with a confident stride.

“I know who did a murder here!” you state, loudly.

“Oh really? You do? That would be super helpful to know,” he says.

Lana, Denise, Spike, and Tiki Dan all perk up.

“The prize tonight for the Hawaiian shirt competition was a gift card to the mall. Examine Spike’s chains closely. I think you’ll find they’re cheaply made. Exactly the type one would acquire at the mall,” you hypothesize.

“That doesn’t prove shit, you dumb fuck,” Spike retorts.

“Hey, what’s that in the rectangular part of your chain?” Denise wonders.

The officer insists Spike hand over the chain. The rectangular part has a thin compartment, and inside he finds the $500 gift card to the mall.

“Okay, I saw he was dead before anyone else and stole the gift card off his corpse,” Spike admits. “I didn’t kill him. I mean, the heroin I sold him would’ve killed him eventually, sure, but…”

“Eh, you seem guilty enough,” the officer says while cuffing Spike.

You just witnessed our flawless American justice system at work. That’s why you’re so proud to be running for President of the United States of America.

THE END