In response to sashay amour'e challenge, I have written a story made up of a few shorter stories. I hope you like it.

Stupid People Will Believe

There are many constants in life: everyone will die, everyone (unfortunately) has to pay taxes, if you're running late you will hit all the red lights, and so on. Another thing that I discovered early in life; stupid people will believe anything.
When I was ten years old, I got into a fight with a kid down the block (back then we fought with fists, not guns). Somehow I ended up face down on the ground; the other boy jumped on my back, grabbed the back of my hair, and slammed my face into the side walk. (Needless to say, I lost that fight.) On my way home, I stopped at a convenience store to get something to drink. I took my drink to the counter to pay. The man behind the counter looked at me and said, "Jesus! What happened to you?"
I didn't want to tell him I just got my ass kicked so I made up something stupid. "I was riding my bike and a bird flew into my face."
His eyes widened and his mouth dropped. "I've never heard of that before."
"Yeah, me either."
"That soda's on me, you sound like you had a bad day."
"Thanks a lot, mister." I carried my soda outside, got on my bike, and rode home thinking, 'What a dumbass'.

A few years ago, I was sitting at a bar drinking away the pain that is my pathetic life. A guy on the stool next to me started talking to me. You know the type, so cheerful it takes everything you have not to punch him in the face. Anyway, during our mostly one-sided conversation, he asks me what I do for a living. The guy was wearing an expensive looking suit and probably drove there in a Jag, so I really didn't want to tell him I worked in a rock quarry. I made something up.
"I work for the state police."
The guy looked at me in disbelief. "You're a state trooper?"
I shook my head. "No, I just work for them. I'm a D.B.O."
"I've never heard of that, what is it?"
"It stands for Dead Body Outliner; I'm the guy that does all the chalk outlines at crime scenes." I went on to tell him how much I enjoyed my job; all the blood and guts. Within minutes, he'd left the bar. "What a dumbass."

The other day my car broke down. I know very little about cars, so I took it to a buddy of mine who was a mechanic. We used to play softball together, so I figured he'd give me a good price.
He checked under the hood, under the dashboard, and then under the car. "Here it is," he hollered. "You broke the wobble shaft."
"Shit! Can you fix it?"
"Yeah, I'll put a new one in for 50 bucks, but the part'll cost you a grand."
"Sorry man, they're hard to find, especially for this car."
"I can't afford a new wobble shaft," I said and before I could say anything else, my "friend" started laughing hysterically. "Damn" 'I'm a dumbass'
There's no such thing as a wobble shaft. Stupid people will believe anything.