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
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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…
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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?
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well, we need it for tracking —
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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?
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the master had to admit, no
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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
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the inspector handed the master a sheet o’ paper with a bill o’ 20,000₧, & then went on their way.