Detective Jake had seen it all before. Crimes committed by tinies were usually petty theft, vandalism or trespassing, but occasionally there were more serious offenses such as assault or burglary. Regardless of the crime, the interrogation was always the same: a tiny suspect sitting on a chair, cuffed by a pair of handcuffs bigger than them.
Jake read through the suspect's file. His name was Tommy, a repeat offender who had been caught stealing from a giant's pantry. Jake sighed. Another day, another petty thief. He walked into the interrogation room, and saw Tommy cowering in the corner.
"Good morning, Tommy. Do you know why you're here?" Jake asked, towering over the tiny thief.
Tommy nodded, his eyes fixed on Jake's shoes. "Y-yes, sir. I took some food from the pantry. I was hungry."
Jake sat down, trying to make eye contact with Tommy. "How many times have you been caught stealing from giants, Tommy?" Jake asked, his voice stern.
Tommy hesitated for a moment before replying, "I-I lost count, sir. I just can't help it. We tinies don't have enough food to survive. And the giants, they have so much. It's not fair."
Jake sighed. He had heard this story before. "Tommy, you know stealing is against the law. You can't just take things that aren't yours."
"But what else am I supposed to do?" Tommy asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "I don't have a job, I can't afford to buy food. I'm just trying to survive."
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