He posted a video on Facebook announcing that he was in the studio recording a new album and quite certain he wasn't in jail. When TMZ contacted the cops, they insisted their prisoner was "definitely" still there. Still, they were starting to realize something wasn't right. They finally double-checked their prisoner's fingerprints and discovered he was not world-famous musician Scott Weiland. On a related hunch, three of the officers went home that night to also discover their wives were not the real Jennifer Lopez.

It turned out their jailed drug offender was some guy named Jason Michael Hurley. And to the cops' credit, he looked pretty similar to Weiland.

Via Alternativenation.net, Vince Bucci/Getty Images Entertainment/Getty Images "Jason is the one on the left. Or is he? You know, we'd better arrest them both to be sure."

Jason was a Stone Temple Pilots fan, and even had plans to start an STP cover band. That might only be relevant to show you how bad he was at making decisions all day every day. It is absolutely unclear what his endgame was. It was only fantastic incompetence that sustained his story longer than five minutes. He had to know Weiland was too famous to keep it going forever, and if that's what he wanted, why not claim to be from Mother Love Bone?

Hurley was charged with providing false information to police, and Weiland's good name was restored, as far as that's possible for a dude who was once busted buying heroin while dressed as a pimp. Plus, TMZ got to write a smug denunciation of the BHPD's sloppy fact-checking. If that's not a sign of how badly you've fucked up, we don't know what is.

One of the reasons they were able to do this is because of their insanely well-connected criminal informant, Enrique Alonso. He seemed to always know just where to find men sneaking drugs across the border, and he was happy to turn them in since he was paid a commission on anything seized through his tips. He snitched on so many of his friends that, in 2001, he earned almost as much as the Dallas chief of police. Enrique was the Michael Jordan of tattling.

Adam Gault/Digital Vision/Getty Images Apparently, snitches also get riches.

Now that you know Enrique's business model, try to think of how a clever 7-year-old might try to game the system. We'll see if you're right in a moment.

You see, before a drug trial begins, evidence is analyzed to make sure the huge bag of cocaine a man was arrested with is actually an illegal drug and not something stupid like, say ... crushed pool chalk. It turns out that all the people Enrique informed on were carrying harmless bags of gypsum. Which might explain why they were all so confused about being arrested for cocaine trafficking.

Thirty people were jailed like this -- a suspiciously high number. After all, who buys cocaine in bulk from a man whose previous 29 clients are in jail for buying drugs? No one. Enrique was planting kilos of chalk dust on Mexican laborers, calling up the police, and pocketing the commission. It was despicable -- the kind of crime that makes Satan hold a brainstorming meeting for new kinds of punishment.

Dusan Kostic/iStock/Getty Images "Dick stuff's just gotten so cliche, you know? I want something that'll really wow the new souls."

But this stupid disaster wasn't entirely on Enrique. Officers Delapaz and Herrera seemed to think there was nothing suspicious about a crime spree of confused immigrants leaving mountains of drugs in their cars. In one case, two day-laborers left "their" 169 pounds of "cocaine" unattended in an unlocked van with the windows rolled down at a fucking Jack In The Box. "Time to cut another check for Enrique! Man, how does this guy always seem to know where to find a vehicle that looks like someone threw bags of drugs into their open window? Unless ... nah."

IFCARBecause it makes sense for guys with the money for their own weight in cocaine to cruise around in an '88 Astro.

The point is, the police should have been suspicious even before they found out all the drugs were chalk. Unfortunately, when they did, it only got stupider. Chief Terrell Bolton held a press conference and blamed Osama Bin Laden. He theorized that post-9/11 border crackdowns had screwed with the coke supply, so dealers were selling pretend drugs instead. So yes, they held people in prison for up to six months for trafficking chalk, but who cares? All that probably means is they were bad drug dealers!

Luckily, this story has a happy ending. Enrique was arrested along with his handler, hero cop and officer of the year candidate Mark Delapaz, who turned out to be in on it. He was charged with evidence tampering and perjury and thrown in prison, and all those poor bastards who were jailed for chalk possession shared a $5.6 million payout. After being deported, Enrique turned up back in Texas, where he was immediately busted for trying to sell counterfeit money to undercover cops. I guess he'd gotten the impression the police there are kind of gullible.

This can scare the hell out of someone who has no idea weed alone can so thoroughly and comprehensively fuck one's shit up. And while you might have a horrible night on too many pot brownies, it's pretty tough to die from a THC overdose. Sanchez did not know this. When the brownies began to take hold and he found himself too high to recall the location of his own ass, he didn't go fetal in front of the TV like a normal drug abuser. He called 911. And it was amazing.

Here are the highlights if you want to watch them yourself:

And the full call:

He blubbered and whimpered about how he and his wife needed rescuing. He told the dispatcher, "We made brownies and I think we're dead. I really do." If there was a committee that honored not being able to handle your shit, this call would have won him a lifetime achievement award. He even asked her the score of the Red Wings game to make sure the phone call wasn't some kind of hallucination. That's how high he was -- he thought his telephone was a lie.

Because the universe is perfect, the ambulance finally arrived at the exact same time as his mother-in-law. He was busted. In every direction. So Officer Sanchez did the honorable thing: He told investigators his treacherous wife had stolen the pot from his squad car and pranked him by baking it into brownies. Ha! A classic cop's wife prank!

Alkivar, via Wikimedia Wakka wakka!

To make matters worse, she told police she once stole cocaine from his car that was meant to be used to train drug-sniffing dogs. Maybe she thought this helped their story? It's worth mentioning they were both sober by this time. It seems they were as bad at lying as they were at law enforcement and recreational drugs.

Sanchez was kicked off the force, and we imagine he's currently being eaten by imaginary clowns in a corner after sipping too much NyQuil.

The lawyers for the police were probably used to this by now, since it wasn't the first time they'd had to deal with the 120th precinct's cheerful disregard for common sense, civil rights, and fiscal restraint. So instead of going to trial, they settled with Pringle for $42,500, which they described as in the best interests of all parties. And we have to admit that, considering recent history, this could have gone much, much worse for Pringle.

When solving the mystery of the baby-powder-sniffing canines, the obvious guess was a corrupt cop swapping out the drugs. But after three inquiries, it was discovered the actual cause was a bit more ridiculous. The cocaine used during training came from a federal police bust where they took every bit of powder lying around, even the bags of harmless talcum the drug dealers planned to use to stretch their product.

The police who found it knew what it was, and it was labeled "NPSD" -- cop code for "No Prohibited Substances Detected." Well, the officers who signed it out of evidence for dog school must have thought it meant "Narcotic Put aSide for Dogs." Or maybe "Nice Puppy Super Drugs"? The point is, they clearly don't put Australia's top cops on doggie drug-napkin duty.