What really happened when I very properly used drug seizure money.

By: Fake Ben Wolfinger

After this fine journalistic establishment published an article in which it said everything that was in a lawsuit against me, I wanted to take a moment and set the record straight. I’m not saying the record was gay to start with – just that it was unstraight.

Let’s start with drug seizure money. What is it? It’s probably best if I start with a hard core example – one that really paints the picture of the bad dudes running around Kootenai County. Last year there was a teenager who liked to smoke the weed. You know what I’m talking about – “The Green Dragon,” “Inslee’s Panini,” “The Colorado Mambo.” In other words, the real bad stuff. The stuff that made us lose the Vietnam War. Anyhow, there was a teenager whose Mom was at work and he was smoking it but good. Later he invites his friend over. We’ll call him Loser. Loser asked if he could get in on the action. Mama’s boy said, “Hell yeah, but it will cost you $5 for one of these special cigarettes.” Loser handed over the money.

Luckily, we had a swat team and a BearCat ready to go. We bulldozed through that garage and took down these hardened criminals. You know what else we did? We took the $5 as drug seizure money. Now that $5 can be used toward good things like getting me a foot massage.

Later on we were back at the office and I was doing what every good cop does – evaluating my performance. You know what grade I gave myself? D+. You know why? We failed to take down the real criminal operation here – the Mom. What kind of Mom leaves their teenage son home alone so she can go to work? She should be at home, home schooling him, like a real mom. From there, I developed a plan.

Since the house was used for drug dealing, we could now seize the house as drug seizure money. And so we did. The housing crisis didn’t take out this single mom. The mill closing down didn’t take her out. But I would. Up to Sheriff’s Sale that puppy went. It was a little devalued from the BearCat driving through it, but we still made $89,000 at auction. That will teach that kingpin a lesson. More importantly, now this money could be used for real good – like multiple foot massages.

After the sale, we all celebrated. Unlimited Champagne for all. After a few glasses, I hopped in my cruiser. It was time to pay a visit to my old buddy Dan Soumas. We met up at the Iron Horse for a little more celebration and to discuss how to spend the money. Here are the ideas we came up with:

• Idea #1: Get mani/pedi’s for the whole crew.
• Idea #2: Head to the CDA Casino and put it all on black.
• Idea #3: Pay attorney fees for all the lawsuits the Department is defending.
• Idea #4: Buy a Pride day costume for k9 Bailey
• Idea #5: Donate it to a non-profit for the payment of salaries
• Idea #6: Donate it to Real Life Church
• Idea #7: Buy a fully stocked bar for the station.
• Idea #8: Buy me a boat. And buy me a truck to pull it.

After vetting all these ideas, we both landed on Idea #2. So we drove down to the glowing lights of Worley. We had made one crucial mistake though. The CDA Casino doesn’t have table games. So instead, we blew $59,000 on the Sex and the City slot machine (BTW: Dan is such a Miranda).  Eventually the Chief of the Tribe came over and cut us off. Right then and there Dan and I made a pact never to speak of this day again. I intend to keep this pact till the day I die.

This left us with a problem though. We still had $30,000 unspent. I made a suggestion. “How about we donate it to Safe Passage? It’s a non-profit that makes sure boats don’t hit rocks on Lake Coeur D Alene. They’re so broke they haven’t been able to pay their staff. We could make a big difference in the lives of the staff and yacht owners on Lake Coeur D Alene.” Dan thought this was a great idea – he just had a few adjustments.

“Federal law states that up to $25,000 in drug seizure money can be donated to non-profits as long as it isn’t used to pay salaries,” Dan said. “Awesome!” I said, “so we’re in compliance.” Since Dan isn’t great at math I had to draw it out on the back of a napkin for him. Here’s what it looked like:

I knew I was correct because the alligator was eating the smaller number. I remembered that alligators eat the smaller number because at Disneyworld alligators eat the smaller children first.

Dan was having none of it though. He continued to insist that $30,000 was greater than $25,000. Since I knew that my Idaho education was far superior to his, I gave Dan one last chance to get on board. I said “Dan, this boat’s a sinken and you either get on board or you don’t.” Dan didn’t get on board. The next day Dan cleared out his desk.

Just to make sure I was doing the right thing, I called up my good buddy Sheriff Arpaio out of Arizona. I asked him straight up, “Is this the right thing?” Ol’ Joe responded, “Who cares? If it isn’t, Trump will give you a pardon.” That’s a lot of wisdom coming from an ol’ codger.

So, that is the story of how a drug kingpin was taken down, her money was used to make warning signs for Hagadone’s yachts, how I got a lot of good foot rubs, and how I’m in the right. It’s a damn good story and you’re going to like it. If you don’t like it, go hug a marijuana dealer like Soumas does. Grass hugger.

Love,

The Wolf