Three blondes were sitting by the side of a river holding fishing poles with the lines in the water.

Three blondes were sitting quietly on the grassy bank of a wide river late one summer afternoon. The sun was beginning to lower in the sky, casting orange reflections across the water while birds chirped in the trees nearby. Each blonde held a fishing pole with the lines stretched far into the river. Beside them sat a small cooler, folding chairs, and a bucket that appeared to be filled with random rusty metal objects.

From a distance, it looked exactly like three ordinary women enjoying a peaceful day of fishing.

A game warden driving slowly along the dirt road spotted them and immediately became suspicious. This river was well known for strict fishing regulations, and lately there had been several complaints about people fishing without licenses.

He parked his truck, adjusted his hat, and walked toward the women.

The blondes noticed him coming but stayed calm.

The warden stopped a few feet behind them and cleared his throat.

“Good afternoon, ladies.”

All three turned and smiled politely.

“Afternoon, officer,” one of them replied.

The warden glanced at the fishing poles and then at the water.

“I’d like to see your fishing licenses, please.”

The first blonde blinked in confusion.

“Fishing licenses?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the warden said. “Anyone fishing in this river is required to carry a valid state fishing license.”

The second blonde looked at the others nervously before turning back to him.

“Well… we don’t actually have licenses.”

The warden sighed heavily.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to issue citations.”

“But officer,” said the third blonde quickly, “we’re not fishing.”

The warden raised an eyebrow.

“You’re sitting beside a river with fishing poles in the water.”

“Yes,” she replied confidently, “but these aren’t really fishing poles.”

Now the officer looked confused.

“What are they then?”

The second blonde smiled proudly.

“They’re magnetic river-cleaning devices.”

The warden stared at her for a moment.

“I’m sorry… what?”

“We’re helping clean the river,” the first blonde explained. “There’s metal junk all over the bottom. Old cans, hooks, nails, knives, coins, bicycle parts… you’d be surprised what people throw in here.”

The officer folded his arms.

“And you expect me to believe that?”

“Of course,” the third blonde said innocently. “Look.”

All three women slowly reeled in their lines.

Sure enough, instead of fishing hooks, large industrial magnets were tied to the ends. Hanging from them were rusty nails, bottle caps, screws, pieces of chain, and random scraps of metal.

The warden walked closer and inspected them carefully.

One magnet even had an old wrench attached to it.

“Well,” he admitted reluctantly, “I’ll be damned.”

“We told you,” one blonde said with a smile.

The officer scratched his chin.

“So you’re seriously out here just cleaning the river?”

“That’s right,” another blonde answered. “We’re doing community service.”

The warden suddenly looked impressed.

“You know, not many people would spend their day helping the environment.”

The blondes nodded proudly.

“We care about nature.”

“Well,” the officer said, softening his tone, “there’s definitely no law against cleaning the river. In fact, I appreciate what you ladies are doing.”

“Thank you, officer,” they replied sweetly.

The warden tipped his hat.

“You all have a good day now.”

“You too!”

The officer walked back toward his truck, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at the strange group. Eventually he drove away and disappeared down the road.

For about five seconds, the blondes remained completely silent.

Then suddenly all three exploded into uncontrollable laughter.

One nearly fell out of her chair.

“Oh my God,” she gasped between laughs, “did you SEE his face when he believed us?”

The second blonde wiped tears from her eyes.

“He really thought we were environmental volunteers!”

The third blonde grinned mischievously as she began reeling her line back in again.

Slowly, a huge clump of metal emerged from the water.

Attached to the magnet were eight shiny fishing lures, two unopened tackle boxes, a pocket knife, and somebody’s expensive fishing net.

The first blonde laughed even harder.

“This spot is amazing!”

The second blonde opened one of the tackle boxes.

“Jackpot! Brand new lures!”

The third blonde proudly held up a wallet stuck to the magnet.

“And look at this!”

The others crowded around.

“Any money in it?” one asked excitedly.

The blonde opened it and smiled.

“Fifty dollars!”

The three blondes burst into laughter again.

One of them leaned back in her chair and said,

“Who needs fishing licenses when the fishermen catch everything for us?”

A game warden came up behind them, tapped one on the shoulder and said, “Excuse me, ladies, I’d like to see your fishing licenses.”
“We don’t have any.” replied the first blonde.

“Well, if you’re going to fish, you need fishing licenses.”

“But officer,” replied the second blonde,

“we aren’t fishing. We all have magnets at the end of our lines and we’re collecting debris off the bottom of the river.”