(Here's story number 2, I mean com'on I have to respond to seasonchicken's challenge. :D, heheh)
It was as an unsually hot Febuary morning, and I was tired of trying to fool my self that i could go back to sleep, with the sun shining through the blinds.
I got up, the room still spining a little. Before i had fully regained my senses, there was a knock on the door, an official 1,2 type knocking (it was buisness).
There stood a young man brandishing what appeared to be a telegram. "Have a good day sir" bleated the young moron.
It was adressed to my former name. This was not a good start to the day.
I feverishly tore away at it. To my relief it was only the Neaderthal publishing group (who had bought the state's police force back in the boom of '87). It was a photo of my car and the number plate was a clear as day. And at the bottom in some nasty looking font was my speed, 42 mph, in a 30mph zone. And the usual fine was demanded from me.
However since they had only sent me a photo, and had not physically caught me, I was indeed entitled (in my oppinion) to act in a simillar manner.
So i wrote out a check. Took a photo of the check, and sent them a photo. Feeling a sense of truimph that those parasites weren't getting my money.
When i returned home from the post office, there was another telegram. A photo of a pair of hand cuffs.