Daley Ponderings

As we were cleaning up from my birthday party, Heather noticed a police car in our back alley. It turns out there were two brothers (one is a self-proclaimed starving musician) who live in Pittsburgh, but were driving a New York plated car, without headlights, circling our neighborhood at midnight, without expired insurance, registration, licenses with old addresses, a spare tire, had drunk some alcohol and had some sort of pellet gun in the backseat, that looks awfully real to me (and to the cops until they studied it for a while).
All of this information came out slowly, as the older brother continually lied and made up various stories. (The starving musician came in a moment of apparent truthfulness to explain why he really didn't have an insurance card at home either, though he had promised that he had it previously)
They didn't end up towing his car, though they did take his plates and escorted him home, and I guess were going to keep the plates until he got insurance, which they said he could afford, since they discovered an IRS tax refund check that he was carrying, but it wasn't his, so he hadn't cashed it.
The whole story was pretty odd.
The police weren't all that great, even prior to discovering the gun, and swore a lot and blowing cigarette smoke in the guy's face. (And of course, like every good smoker, tossed the cigarette in our alley)
The police (eventually four officers) harassed them quite a bit, not entirely undeserved, though the repetition of each officer saying how the one guy could have been attending his brother's funeral, and how the officer wouldn't have felt bad about it, since there was a gun in the car. They threatened various amounts of charges and fines, and trying to convince them to not do it again.
As they left, the younger brother asked how he was supposed to get home now, since they weren't going to let his brother drive him home. Everyone thought that was pretty funny, and even the older brother was smart enough to hush up the younger one.