Bob squirmed while sitting between two of his sweaty cellmates in the overcrowded, stuffy prison cell and licked his dry mouth. The prison water was even more vile than the rest of Springfield's water supply, so there was only one thing that could provide moisture to Bob's poor, chapped lips. Reaching into his pocket for his salvation, he found that it wasn't there.
"Who took my chap stick?"
"Oh, I did," said the man next to him, passing it back. "Here ya go."
Bob shuddered. "I don't want it."
As the police car drove away from Shelbyville's Best Western, Bob's lips were feeling chapped again. He felt his pocket as best he could while wearing handcuffs, but noticed that it was gone.
"Who took my chap stick?"
"Oh, I did," said Lou. He started to hand back the tube of cherry chap stick, but Chief Wiggum grabbed it.
"Thanks, Lou. Ralphie ate mine."
Bob was forced to spend the rest of the ride back to Springfield listening to all the stories about the various things that little Ralph Wiggum had consumed.