Down The Pan

A cop searched me in a nightclub toilet last night and found my stash of drugs.

“It’s not my fault,” I said, “Every time I try and flush them down the toilet, somehow they always appear back in my pocket again. It must be magic.”

The cop laughed and asked, “Do you really think that I’m going to believe that?”

I said, “I can prove it if you want me to.”

“Okay, go on then.” he smiled, as he gave me the bag of drugs.

After I’d flushed them down the toilet, he looked at me with a grin and said, “Well, go on. Show me your pocket then!”

“What for?” I asked.

He said, “The drugs.”

I said, “What drugs?”