Peabo Alston Jr., a long time criminal, has given up his law breaking ways because of a bag of Cheetos.

             “Twelve years ago, I ate my first and only bag of Cheetos,” said Mr. Alston.  “After I was done, I noticed this thick coating of orange cheese dust all over my finger tips that I couldn’t get off.   I tried washing my hands repeatedly, but the cheese dust was still there.  Tried bleach, sandpaper, a blow torch, and a mixture of sulfuric acid, Easy Off over cleaner, and… beeswax – you know, to retain the moisture in my skin.   Nothing worked.   Then I resorted to removing all the skin off both my hands with a potato peeler.  But, when the skin grew back, the orange cheese dust grew back with it.”

                      During this period, Mr. Alston continued his practice of breaking into houses and stealing  expensive items such as, jewelry and electronics.  He also stole not-so-much expensive items like ceiling fans, George Foreman grills, and velvet paintings of Jesus and civil rights leaders at the Last Supper.  Until ultimately, the orange cheese dust on his hands made it easy for the police to identify and arrest him.

             “Everything I touched had my damn orange fingerprints all over it,” Alston said.  “Wood, glass, Shag carpet, greasy, shredded, hash browns – you name it.  I even stole a fish tank once and left orange fingerprints floating on top of the goddamn water!”

                 Alston then tried using gloves to contain the powdered dust prints, but that proved unsuccessful.

                 “It worked for a minute,” said Alston.  “But eventually, the cheese dust filtered its way through the gloves and left my DNA forensics all over the goddamn house.   I tried all kinds of gloves.  Winter gloves, boxing gloves, even O.J,’s old glove.  Nothing worked.”

                After a time, Alston says the orange cheese dust on his fingers started to glow in the dark, migrate up his wrist and eventually covered both of his arms.   That’s when he gave up crime for good.

               “It was like shooting up a flare gun at 3am when I was running down the street, with a velvet painting of Al Sharpton, eating a bologna sandwich, with a motion blur of orange cheese dust particles trailing behind me.   I would get caught so fast by the cops, that the merchandise I had wouldn’t even have time to depreciate!”

               These days, Alston makes an honest living working at a large airport.

              “I work on the runway, landing planes.   No lights, I just wave my arms, while I eat my hash browns.”