Sheriff Miller, who had known Arthur for thirty years, stepped out of the car. He looked at Eleanor, then at the brush hog, and finally at Arthur, who was casually sipping his coffee.
"Arthur," the Sheriff sighed. "What's going on?" "They're on my land, Jim," Arthur said simply. "Trying to cut my corn."
"Your land?" Eleanor scoffed. "We checked the county maps online. The subdivision owns a 50-foot buffer zone extending from the pavement! You planted this on HOA property!"
Arthur smiled gently and handed the manila folder to Sheriff Miller. "Jim, would you mind taking a look at the original plats from 1922? The ones my great-grandfather signed?"
The Sheriff opened the folder. He reviewed the documents for exactly seven minutes. He cross-referenced the property lines, the easements, and the historical deeds. A slow, highly amused grin spread across the officer's face.
Sheriff Miller closed the folder and turned to the HOA President. "Ma'am, you need to call off your landscaping crew right now. If they cut one more stalk, I'm arresting you for felony property damage."