Solution: Corn.
Lots of it.
We're surrounded by cornfields.
And the corn isn't getting picked.
So when L came over we first hid corn all over the house (people are still finding some to this day).
Then with that corn, we drew faces and became the true corn bandits.
The field.
One of our first targets - the hostage corn strapped to the chair in someone's front yard.
The 'ol "sneakers on power lines" trick - except with corn.
The pirate corn on his mast - the Strathroy-Caradoc fountain.
Corn on the tracks. With the wind blowing just right, one can hear the corn's tortured screams yelling "Save me, save me!"
Gangster corn and me having an awkward conversation in the Strathroy Train Station - which is a cabin smaller than the room I'm in at this moment.
"You've got mail."
New meaning to "baby corn".
"Hmm, let's go check out the local dreamhouses... Why, that's rather silly of me, I shall just live in a cornfield for the rest of my days instead!"
This bike is quite literally powered by pure ethanol fuel.
... Er... A corny house? Yes.
"Corn merging ahead".
Oh we got stopped by the cops too. Apparently we're not allowed into the local parks after dark. Summary of conversation:
Cop#1: Hey, you guys know you're not supposed to be here after dark right?
One of us: Oh. Uh. Sorry officers, we didn't know.
Cop#1: That's alright, and we stopped you because we thought you were someone else. We still want your information though. Got ID?
All of us: (Inward sigh)
Cop#2 (While #1 collects our information): So what do you have in those bags anyway?
One of us: ... Corn.
Me: Yeah man just corn, not drugs or anything like that! *Nervous laugh*
*Officers look inside bags*
*Gives us weird looks*
Cop #1: Alright, all clear. Thanks.
All of us: Yes, thank you.
*Cops drive away*
All of us: %@#$#$!@!
Strathvegas 4 lyfe.
Check back sometime. More corn banditry every weekend.
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