They got me! Threw me in the back of a van with a hood on my head. Smacked me in the kidneys with a coupla phone books. Told me that they "knew" what I was up to. That they "knew" where I was on the 13th, and just what I did with that river otter. Then one of them laughed, and mumbled something like, "Man, this Patriot Act is totally awesome."
Then they fingerprinted me, and kicked me out of the moving van. I'm still picking gravel out of my shoulder.
(Alternate variant story: I was painting a cabinet. It was black.)