...the misguided pairing of ham and cheese with the fruit.
Long before I had even heard of pizza (raised in the middle of nowhere in southern Saskatchewan), one of our special occasion dishes was ham roasted with pineapple slices.
Leftovers were made into ham and cheese, ham and pineapple, and even ham and cheese and pineapple sandwiches. Sometimes Dad added a slice of tomato and grilled them open face in the oven under the broiler until the cheese browned. Heaven on Earth, and I didn't even like either tomato or pineapple on their own. I still don't like pineapple unless it's paired with ham.
One of the standard condiments when setting out a cold cut, make your own sandwich buffet was homemade pineapple-mustard.
Now I'm hungry, and I just finished lunch!
And here's me over in the corner thinking that maybe those with a monopoly on state-sanctioned violence should be held to a higher standard than the general public, not a lower one.
If that had been a gang of thugs (🤔), you can bet that everything would be done to pursue the case. And not just two people, but the whole gang as participants in a criminal activity.