Underground Brain Twister

Welcome to the first ever "Underground Brain Twister"
The object of this brain twister is to read the following two stories (with accompanying photos) and determine which one is true and which one is fictitious. You could win up to *$10,000 cash! *[Please do not infer that prize money will ever be given out my the Burrows Underground or any of its affiliates. Odds of winning 0:1,000] Good Luck!

Story 1: As you can see by the photo, Lauren, Spot and I had quite an adventure when we went to a Fayetteville Patriots basketball game last week. Lauren and Spot were sharing some nachos and I was enjoying a hot dog (all over priced of course) when Spot dropped the cheese covered chip he was holding. His eyes got large and his fur stood on end. This usually means he's going to bite, so Lauren and I quickly put or hands in our pockets to protect our fingers, but he had no interest in us. Spot, who happened to be wearing a cowboy outfit that night, spotted some thing odd is section 205, row 3. "Could it be? No, not here." He exclaimed. But sure enough, he was there. You see, Spot was part of a pair at birth. Spot has a twin brother. Never receiving notification of adoption, Spot always assumed that his canine brother, Smudge, never made it out of the Humane Society alive. Now there he was, right there across from him in the Crown Coliseum! Spot shouted with glee and ran across the court to reunite his long-lost brother. The officials, in response to the commotion, called time-out and the players froze where they stood. All 15,000 in the room stood in silence as Spot and Smudge embraced and cried tears of joy. I thought to myself, "Now that's an Oprah moment." Billy, the local orphan on crutches, started to clap for the pair. Soon the place was a cacophony of noise as spectators clapped, cheered, and pounded their thunder sticks. Spot jumped onto Smudge's back and the two made a victory lap around the basketball court. Before exiting the floor, Smudge reared back on his hind legs and spot waved his hat, acknowledging the crowed. Love was in that room that night. Spot and Smudge were together again.


Story 2: Last week Lauren and I decided to head to the local grocery store to pick up some provisions (chips and salsa I believe). Not 30 seconds out of our apartment driveway, we heard a thud against the driver-side rear quarter window. I slammed on the breaks. It was about 7:00pm and dark. We knew right away that something had hit our window, but weren't sure what it was. I looked back to see what had happened but what I saw didn't make sense. The window seemed to be covered with water. It wasn't water. It was thousands of little cracks reflecting the orange street light from above. Something had completely shattered our window. There was a clear impact point where a rock or perhaps a bb struck it. I looked around for any little punks to strangle, but being dark, I couldn't see anything. Lauren advised me that if they did in fact have a bb gun, it wouldn't be too smart to go off looking for them. I had to simply swallow my rage. I used my cell phone to call the police. Officer Complacent answered the phone and said that I could drive up to the police station and get a report for insurance if I wanted too, but that I didn't have to. Apparently there are more pressing issues in Hope Mills than suppressing teen delinquency. Lauren and I spent the rest of the evening at the police station waiting for Officer Complacent to mosey on out and write a report. Two hours later Lauren and I were back where we started, at home: no chips: no salsa. The difference now was that we had a broken window. On Friday, I took the car into the shop, and a deducible later all was well again. Thanks punks, who ever you are.