Lion’s Reward

            Ricky Lion dropped in the other day, just out of prison and wanting some advice from me because I knew his brother, the inimitable W.T.F. Lion, an honorable man come to grief because of his initials.  I asked Ricky how trouble had found him.

            “R.R.,” he said, “you know I’ve always been good at stealin’.  Why, I could like to steal the gold right out of your teeth and you, never stop smilin’.  But it was my lyin’ got me in trouble!”

            “How’s that?” 

            “Well, I lied to a used car salesman.  I figured, what the hell, you know?  I told him I had lots of money and took some old Lexus for a joy ride.”

            “Bad plan, Ricky!  They’re jealous about their cars!”

“But that wan’t it—see I lied to a politician.  Yessir.  I leaned out of that Lexus like a prince and told ol’ Senator Flogger they was some rich women over in Crass Falls lookin’ for a candidate to support.”

“Was that a lie?”

“Yep, they was looking for a candidate all right—him.  They tarred and feathered him, as was necessary and proper, and run him out of town!  The day after he got back I got audited by the IRS.”

“But surely, you of all people have no problem with the IRS!”

“Well, see I lied about my income.  I made out a inflated 1040 sayin’ I was like, a thousandaire, and ‘accidentally’ left it where Miss Kitten Pillars would see it in her office.”

“But that’s not the form you sent to the IRS is it Ricky?”

“Oh hell no, R.R., it was on the 15^th, so Miss Kitten mailed it for me!”

“Well, Ricky, lyin’ will do that to you.  It’s like kiting checks—you have to keep lyin’ to cover the last one—it’s just not worth it.  Remember the wisdom of Mark Twain who held that always tellin’ the truth will amaze your friends and confound your enemies.  That’s my advice to you.  And I wouldn’t worry about the IRS—they’ll take a check.