On the Spur of the Moment.

A small boy was trudging along dejectedly in the grip of a policeman. In his arms he carried a football. There had been a broken window and trampled flowerbeds. A group of his pals stood on the street corner. He tried to keep a stiff upper lip as he passed them.

“What did you do, Fred?” asked his pals.

“Oh, nothin',” he replied casually. “They've just asked me to play for the Force.”

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