The Twinkie Thief

While I was working at Geneva, we had a pipe fitter named Dell Fowler. He was a professional boxer—in fact, he still runs Dell’s boxing club. There was a story on him in the BYU newspaper a couple years ago. We were good friends.
While me and the other workers would go and do jobs around the plant, Dell would stay in the shop and fit pipes. With everyone gone, he started getting into the lunches, and taking out the desserts. When I would go to work, Arleen, a lot of times, would make homemade breads or cakes, and send them in my lunch. When I came back, they’d often disappeared! Now Dell really like twinkies. He wouldn’t just go through mine—he’d go through half a dozen, or whoever’s left their lunch bucket in the shop. Nobody ever knew who took the twinkies, but he was in the shop, and eventually my comrades put 2 and 2 together…

One time, after discovering his twinkie missing, one of the fellows said, “Well, I’ll fix him.” The next day he took a syringe, and filled his twinkies full of shaving cream. As soon we came in from lunch, he yelled out, “Somebody has eat’n my twinkies!”. Anybody know who ate my twinkies?” Well, everybody knew who ate his twinkies… Finally, he says “Dell, did you eat my twinkies? With an offended look on his face, Dell said, “No, I didn’t eat your twinkies…” The other man said, “Well, by gosh, I hope I find out, ‘cause I filled that twinkie full of shaving cream.’’ Then Dell piped up, “I though those twinkies smelled funny—they didn’t taste funny, but they smelled funny…” We had finally caught him red handed. But it didn’t stop him—if anybody had twinkies in their lunch, he still took ‘em.