One long night while investigating a San Diego psychiatric hospital for medical insurance fraud, dozens of FBI agents had worked up an appetite. So an agent called a nearby pizza parlor for delivery. What follows is the conversation with the pizza server. It was recorded by the FBI because, well, that's what the FBI does:
Agent: Hello. I would like to order 19 large pizzas and 67 cans of soda.
Pizza Parlor Employee: And where would you like them delivered?
Agent: We're over at the psychiatric hospital.
Pizza Person: The psychiatric hospital?
Agent: That's right. I'm an FBI agent.
Pizza Person: You're an FBI agent?
Agent: That's correct. Just about everybody here is.
Pizza Person: And you're at the psychiatric hospital?
Agent: That's correct. And don't go to the front doors, we have them locked. You will have to go around back, to the service entrance.
Pizza Person: And you're all FBI agents?
Agent: That's right. How soon can you have them here?
Pizza Person: And everyone at the psychiatric hospital is an FBI agent?
Agent: That's right. We've been here all day and we're starving.
Pizza Person: How are you going to pay for all of this?
Agent: I have my checkbook right here.
Pizza Person: And you're all FBI agents?
Agent: That's right. Everyone here is an FBI agent. Can you remember to bring the pizzas and sodas to the service entrance in the rear? We have the front doors locked.
Pizza Person: I don't think so.
Anonymous
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