McDonald’s Mega Millions Lotto Winner: “The ‘Hamburglar’ Stole My Ticket!”

Washington, D.C. –

Despite being retired for years, today McDonald's ‘Hamburglar’ was implicated by the woman claiming to be the Mega Millions lotto winner for over a week now, although she has yet to produce any evidence of ownership of the lucky ticket.

“I was siting there under the golden arches,” now claims the Maryland woman, 37. “Minding my own business, sharing a Happy Meal with all 7 of my kids when the ‘Hamburglar’ sneaked up behind me and snatched the ticket out of my hand.”

The ‘Hambuglar’ then ran out of the McDonald’s restaurant.

The Maryland woman said she did not give chase because she was confident she would find the winning ticket in the parking lot somewhere.

“He probably dropped it on the way out,” said the self-proclaimed lotto winner, apparently expecting to pick it up off the floor.

The ‘Hamburgler’, who chose to respond to the accusation through his defense attorney, retired from the McDonald’s Corporation years ago.

After it was determined that he was contributing to children’s food insecurity by making them fearful that their food was about to be stolen from them by a little masked man.

The 'Hamburglar' then went to work as a lobbyist for the fast-food industry.

“My client is morally outraged and is currently considering legal action for defamation of character and slander,” said the ‘Hambuglar’s’ defensive attorney. “He has paid his debt to society for his former life of crime and is now gainfully employed as a lobbyist on K Street right here in Washington, D.C.”

The defense attorney then reminded everyone that his client is innocent until proven guilty.

“Besides,” added the defense attorney before drawing attention to a giant projector screen. “He has an airtight alibi.”

The attorney then rolled footage taken from a security camera that showed the ‘Hamburglar’ talking to several Congressmen in the lobby of the House of Representatives on Capitol Hill.

Although the ‘Hamburglar’ had his back to the camera there was no mistaking him for anyone but himself, as he was wearing his distinctive trademark clothing: a black hat, eye mask and cape. Red gloves and tie with a black and white striped prison uniform.

“As you can see my client couldn’t have stolen that Mega Millions lotto ticket,” said the defense attorney. “He was just too busy doing his job, lobbying our elective representatives.”

The ‘Hamburglar’ then turned, facing the security camera. He was wearing a T-shirt that read: “Remember, Vote Yes for ‘Pink Slime’!”

“I’m not worried about being sued,’ said the Maryland woman. “Because when I find my winning ticket, I’ll hire the best lawyer my Mega Millions lotto money can buy. Or better yet, the best lobbyist on K Street. By the way, have you seen my winning lotto ticket?”

Copyright © 2008-2012 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Winning Mega Millions Lotto Ticket Found in Pocket of Man Struck by Lightning Twice, Involved in Deadly Car Crash Too

Inland Empire, California –

A man, whose identification is being held back by authorities pending notification of next of kin, was certified by California State Lotto officials as the holder of the winning ticket of the $640 million dollar jackpot.

“We found the winning ticket in his front outer breast coat pocket,” said the emergency medical technician (EMT) that responded to the 911 call. "He must have tucked it back in moments before he died."

The man had just purchased the winning ticket at the local liquor store. And after watching the results of the lotto on the monitor with others in the liquor store, he realized he was the winner of more than half a billion-dollars.

“He called the State Lottery officials on his cell phone right on the spot,” said the liquor store manager, who sold the winning ticket.

Due to the unusually large amount of the jackpot, State Lottery officials confirmed to the man that he was the winner, advising him to sign the back of the ticket, photocopy it and to put it in a safe place.

“We were all so happy for him,” continued the liquor store manager. “And were wishing we could all be him.”

That was until the lottery ticket winner drove way.

Literally moments after waving the winning ticket in the air and carefully tucking it into his breast pocket and getting into his car, the Mega Millions Lotto winner pulled out of the liquor store parking lot just to get hit by a truck as he attempted to merge with traffic.

“We all thought he was dead,” said the liquor store manager.

Remarkably, the lotto winner emerged from the smoldering wreckage of his car unscathed.

“We all cheered when he saw he was still alive,” said a fellow lottery player from the liquor store that rushed out with others to help the lucky ticket holder.

Unfortunately, as the lotto winner pulled out his jackpot ticket from his breast pocket, kissing it and then waving it in the air above his head, he was struck to death by lightning twice by a passing freak storm cell.

“Well, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” said the liquor store manager as he hung a sign claming credit for the place where the biggest winning ticket was sold. All the while his employees sweep the parking lot clear of the broken glass and ashes of the former Mega Millions lottery winner.

Copyright © 2008-2012 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Mitt Romney’s “$10,000 Bet” Exposes Secret Gambling Lives of Mormons

Las Vegas, Nevada --

Once a month from Salt Lake City, Utah, Mormons leave their homes undercover of darkness to board unmarked buses headed for Las Vegas, Nevada. Along the way they change their clothes. Their constitutions, chemically. And cosmetically their appearance as well. Hours later, they arrive in Sin City. Disembarking from their motor coaches disguised as slightly inebriated Chinese tourists.

“It’s part of the transition they undergo,” said the bus driver. “You know, like grasshoppers into locusts.”

Free to roam the neon lit city, dressed in straw hats, brightly colored Hawaiian shirts and cameras dangling from their necks, the Mormons draw little attention to themselves as they hit every casino in town. Gambling away their hard earnings at whimsical games of chance.

“We work hard,” said “Mr. Chang”, intermittently pausing to sip on a mini umbrella mixed drink, while throwing a pair of dice. “And we play harder still.”

However, since Mitt Romney’s ‘$10,000’ slip of the tongue, which may have inadvertently exposed the secret gambling lives of Mormons, some in the church, working for change, fear a backlash from fellow churchgoers, as well as religious intolerance from outsiders.

One such man is Aaron Johnson (a.k.a. Mr. Yen), a leader in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and veteran Vegas tour guide.

“People actually expect something from us, Mormons. Not like those lazy Catholics,” Mr. Yen says, glancing from side to side. As he cautiously walks the casino floor, wary that he will be recognized despite his disguise.

Mr. Yen says Mormons are locked into a stereotype. Held captive to a reputation only a few have rightly so earned.

Suddenly, Mr. Yen notices a young couple staring at him from across the room.

“Excuse me,” says Mr. Yen, as he steps aside to snap a few photos of the casino’s interior flora: a decorative arrangement of potted plastic plants. Causally, he drops a few coins into a nearby slot machine as well. It pays off almost immediately.

The young couple shrugs their shoulders, as they proceed on their way.

“Boy, that was a close one,” says Mr. Yen. “Too close. Been like that ever since you know who announced a little wager on national TV.”

From within the church, Mr. Yen helps run an Underground Railroad of sorts.

“One that works to liberate Mormons from the stereotype of the faithful spouse, hard working laymen and shrewd businessmen,” says Mr. Yen as he boards the bus along with the fellow members of his congregation headed back to Salt Lake City.

In the back, a drunken brawl breaks out over the disputed results of a game of craps.

“Excuse me,” Mr. Yen says again. Only this time, he does not reach for his camera or the lever of a slot machine. Rather, he pulls out a blackjack from under his tropical patterned Hawaiian shirt instead. “Looks like I have to breakup another unauthorized ‘Bible Study’.”

Copyright © 2008-2011 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.