"Four lumps of sugar to go, please." The policeman said to the Barista.
"I'm sorry, sir," the young coffee slinger responded, "but our lumps of sugar are for paying customers only and ..."
"Yeah, yeah," the policeman responded, putting his hand in front of the Barista's face. "...and not for police horses."
For a silent moment, the policeman looked at the lumps of sugar. The Barista looked at the sugar, then back at the policeman.
"Uh, sir?" said the Barista. On the street a horse could be heard, neighing nervously.
The policeman's trigger finger twitched. The Barista sighed.
Like a cobra strike, the police officer grabbed the lumps of sugar and ran out of the coffee shop.
"Uh, what was it again?" asked the Barista, looking around for a second, after the police man had cleared the premises. "Are we supposed to call the police on the police or just on everybody else?"
"Dudes," the old wise man said. "Call animal control."
In the distance could be heard the sounds of horses hooves, clapping the Earth like there were better places to be right then.
