Two sixes and a three

I went to a meeting tonight and after, as is the custom of this meeting, we all went out to dinner. About half the people at the table, me included, had lived in the LA area and although these other Los Angelenos have lived in Arizona only a year or so, I have become friends with them because we either knew each other a bit in LA or know a lot of people in common.

These guys and gals have between 20 and 30 years now, so using is only a memory. But what do we do at dinner? We tell war stories. Tonight it was explaining the shortchange hustle to the higher-end addicts at the table.

One man who is waiting for his third liver transplant (the hepatititus C just keeps crunching his new livers), was telling us about some counterfeiters he knew. That reminded me of one of my father's favorite jokes, especially appropros since I spent the day packing to head back to Missouri for a few months.

Two brothers from Arkansas were struggling financially and they finally hit on a great idea. They would become counterfeiters. One brother wanted to print tens and the other brother insisted they print twenties.

"If we print tens," said the one brother, "it'll take us days to make any money."

"If we print twenties," the other brother said, "we'll stand out too much. The clerks will remember us."

Finally they compromised and decided to print fifteens.

They set off with their first batch of bills. One brother drove and the other brother's role was to run into stores as they drove along and cash the bills. Their first stop was a small market on a lonely country road.

"Keep the car running," one brother said to the other, "and I'll run in and cash the bill." The driver sat in the car, engine running, waiting for his brother's return.

His brother ran out of the market and hopped into the passenger seat. "Get out of here," he said.

The driver gunned it and drove away. "How'd you do?" he asked.

"Great," his brother responded. "I got two sixes and a three."