the master’s day was going well till they heard a knock on their door & opened it to see a figure dressed in black, with eyes covered in shades, who, without delay, held up their badge & said without any emotion,
cca. we have a warrant to inspect this premises for cookie leakage.
the master knew they had no choice but to let the officer in. now e could only hope that the inspector wouldn’t find anything.
unfortunately, after an hour o’ the master’s hope building, that was all dashed when the inspector found a spigot buried deep in the sitemap, spilling chocolate chip crunches right out into the seas, to anyone who visits the site.
with a shaky voice, the master said,
we, ’course, give our visitors a warning asking them to confirm their acknowledgment that they may encounter cookies….
the inspector, staring down @ their notes ’stead o’ the master, said,
¿are these cookies necessary for doing the work they need done on the site?.
well, we need it for tracking — .
that is not included. i mean, ¿are these remains needed for them to complete purchases or any other work your visitors are doing on the premises?.
the master had to admit,
the inspector replied,
you must wait till after the visitor signs your agreement before subjecting them to cookies. i’m going to have to write you a citation.
the inspector handed the master a sheet o’ paper with a bill o’ 20,000₧, & then went on their way.