Item: A couple investigated for sending ricin to President Obama and other gun reform advocates accused each other of complicity during questioning.

FBI: "Howdy, ma'am. We are with the FBI. We'd like to ask you ..."

"Otis! Some boys with badges want to talk to you about your little hobby. The great patriot's watching 'Hoarders.' "

"Tell 'em we don't want any."

"Tell 'em yourself. I am not your slave."

"Can't a man get a little downtime here? What do they want?"

FBI: "Good afternoon, sir. Your wife ... "

"I heard what the old ball and chain said. I don't know what 'hobby' she's talking about. Only hobby I got is staying out of her way. Norma Jean, why don't you tell these boys about your little pastime? She's always up to no good in the kitchen. What did you send me out for just last week? Ricin beans?"

"I asked you to get rice and beans, you lazy son of a …"

"Who are you calling lazy? You don't have time to clean the trailer but you manage to find the time to make ricin and write your little notes and go to the post office whenever you like."

"Put on your pants. You're going downtown! He's your terrorist, boys. Take him out of here and out of my life - and good luck prying his fat behind off the sofa!"

"Shut up, you ..."

"You shut up!"

FBI: "Ma'am. Put down the frying pan. Sir, drop the beer bottle."

"Frisk her. You'll find all the evidence you need! Go ahead, frisk her!"

"It'll be the first time a real man has touched me in years! Go for it, boys."

"Hear that? Her mouth's a weapon of mass destruction. I got an envelope for you, Norma Jean. It's addressed to 'tramp!' "

"I pray to God it's got divorce papers in it! Where do I sign? You're dumber than a 'Fox & Friends' studio audience. What did you do to bring the FBI to our doorstep? What did you do? What did you stick on the envelope? One of those return address labels we get every year from the Leukemia Society hitting us up for donations? I'll tell you what kind of man I'm living with here! Cheap old coot keeps the nickel they tape to the letter! Can you believe it!"

"Why don't you tell 'em what you was up to today? She was on our computer looking up bomb recipes!"

"I was on Craigslist looking for a real man. Who's the pervert who's always on the computer looking at porn? Otis del Ray. And when you're not doing that, Mr. 'I got a right to bear arms,' you're stuffing envelopes or wiring explosives or listening to Glenn Beck. He hasn't lifted a finger since he ..."


"Look at this dump! When's the last time you fixed anything around here? How long has the sink been clogged?"

"I said I'd get around to it! I'm fighting to bring America back! Speaking of people doing their fair share around here, I'm sick of eating nothing but TV dinners. Can you cook anything besides castor beans?

"Oh! I guess trolling the online comment sections all day makes a big man hungry! I'd never guess from looking at you that you're starving. I got a rice casserole I'd be happy to shove down your fat throat."

FBI: "Sir ... "

"Listen, boys, I'd love it if I were your man. Then you could arrest me and take me away from this witch. But I'm not your man. She's your man."

"Do I look like a man to you?"

FBI: "Sir, do not answer her. Do either of you recognize the envelope I have here in this baggie?"

"Yes sir, I do! That's Norma Jean's handwriting. She's your domesticated terrorist."

"The word's 'domestic,' you idiot. The man can't spell worth a damn. That's his writing. Ask him to spell the president's name. Might as well throw a Rubik's cube at a chimp."

"Shut up. I can spell as good as anyone! B-A-R-O-C-K ..."

"Need help? Look at him sweating."

"W-H-O-S-A-N-E O-H-B-O-M-B-A."

FBI: "You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent ..."

"Silent! Hear that, dipstick? You got the right to shut your pie hole! If you tell them ..."

"What? That you're a hag?"

"That's it! Where's my semi ..."

FBI: "Freeze, ma'am. Cuff her, boys. You are both under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say ..."

"I'll teach you to tread on me. I hope you get life, you old bat."

"Blow it out your behind. Anything's better than being sentenced to life with this tool."

"What did you call me?"

FBI: "Tase 'em."

Email Star cartoonist and columnist David Fitzsimmons at