A game warden finds a man at a popular trout fishing spot with two dozen
trout swimming in a bucket. “That’s way over the limit,” he
says. “You’re under arrest.”
“But officer, please,” the man says, “these are my pet fish from home. I
just bring them down here to let them swim free once a week.
When I whistle, they all come back and get into the bucket to go home.”
“I don’t believe it,” says the warden. “Show me.”
The man promptly dumps the trout into the stream and gazes after them as
they swim away.
A gamewarden in a small town, on the edge of a lake, had it pretty easy controlling things in the sparsely populated area. That is until Jock moved to town. Every day he would go out in his boat, and every day he’d come back with his limit of large fish. “Nobody can be that good, or that lucky”, the gamewarden told himself. He could never catch him breaking the law, but knew something was “fishy”(pun intended). He found Jock at the local tavern, struck up a conversation and bought him a couple of drinks. They got chummy, and Jock invited him to go fishing with him the next day. He arrived bright and early and they set out to fish. Right away the Warden knew something was wrong, because Jock had no rods or anything else that looked like gear. They dropped anchor, and Jock lit up a cigar. He then reache into a bag, pulled out a stick of dynamite, lit it with the cigar, and tossed it over the side. KABOOM. Fish started floating to the surface, and JOck started gathering up the best ones. The game warden presented his badge, and informed Jock that he was a game warden. Jock casually reached into the bag, lit up another stick of dynamite, handed it to the Warden and said,“Did you come to talk or fish”?