Friends of mine have been urging me to binge watch the hugely popular Netflix science fiction drama “Stranger Things,” assuming that the show's blend of '80s nostalgia, pop culture, and clever writing would appeal to me. But if I want “stranger things,” I don't need to look any further than the legal system. And like any good lawyer, I'm prepared to support my argument with a few exhibits.

Exhibit A: Criminal Calls 911 on Himself

If you're a fugitive from justice, you're not helping your chances of staying “on the lam” if you alert the police to your presence. Yet that's exactly what 53-year-old Jesse Graham did in May when he accidentally dialed 911 from an address in Rochester, New York. Graham, who is wanted on “several charges” in North Carolina, was surprised when Rochester police showed up to the address in response to a 911 hang-up call that originated from that location. He's now being held at the Wayne County Jail awaiting extradition, where his telephone privileges are restricted—which is probably a good thing.

Exhibit B: Another 'D'oh' Moment

Police in Leicester, Connecticut, got some unwitting help from the suspected thief himself in a case involving electronics thefts from a local Walmart. It seems that 55-year-old Dennis Jackson allegedly tried to cover up the anti-theft devices on the items using wads of Play-Doh, the clay substance loved by children everywhere. Unfortunately, in using the Play-Doh, Jackson allegedly left behind something else: a readily identifiable fingerprint pressed into and preserved perfectly by the clay! Jackson, who is also facing criminal charges in Pennsylvania and New Jersey, was swiftly arraigned on four counts of unlawful removal of an anti-theft device. You might also say that he made a lasting impression.

Exhibit C: Best. Work Excuse. Ever.

If you've ever called in sick to work with an unconvincing cough or “Ferris Bueller”-like symptoms, then perhaps you're just not trying hard enough. Perhaps you should “go big” like Indian engineer Rameschandra Fefar. After being served with an official notice from his employers demanding the reason why he had only been at the office a few days out of the past eight months, Fefar replied that he was the 10th incarnation of the Hindu god Vishnu (usually depicted as having four arms and blue skin). Fefar was supposed to be working on a dam project, but instead he was “entering into the fifth dimension to change the global conscience,” a task which prevented him from being “physically present in the office.” Hey, look on the bright side: at least you know he's not the guy heating up fish in the break-room microwave, or eating other people's lunches in the communal refrigerator.

Exhibit D: The Millennial From Hell

In an episode that made national headlines, Mark and Christina Rotondo of Camillus, New York, had to take their son to court to get him to leave the house. Frustrated by son Michael's refusal to move out or get a job after months of pleading with him and offering him financial help with which to fund another place, the Rotondos sent their son a series of eviction notices and ultimately took him to court. On May 22, 2018, in a hearing before State Supreme Court Justice Donald Greenwood, Michael Rotondo refused to address his parents directly and argued that he was entitled to at least six more months under his parents' roof, and that he wasn't “ready” to leave home. Calling the request “outrageous,” Greenwood ordered the 30-year-old to move out. The unusual case grabbed national headlines and made Michael Rotondo the poster child for selfish, entitled millennials everywhere, even as offers of financial assistance and a job at a local restaurant flooded in.

Exhibit E: This Is Why We Have Cavity Searches

Leston Lawrence picked an unusual way to steal from his employer, the Canadian Mint: he smuggled 22 gold “pucks” out of the mint by hiding them (presumably one at a time) up his rectum. But Lawrence was eventually caught with the booty in his booty, after selling 17 of the small ingots at a nearby mall's gold trader. Yet as strange as this theft already was, it got weirder. Lawrence's criminal case was assigned to an Ontario judge named—I can't make this stuff up—Peter Doody. And after his conviction in front of Doody (try to say that without snickering), Lawrence appealed the court's order for him to pay over $190,000 in restitution, arguing that it was excessive since he'd only made about $130,000 on the heist. The court of appeals in Ontario, however, let the restitution amount stay since it wasn't the mint's fault that the price of gold had gone up since the original theft. So, once again, Lawrence wound up taking it in the shorts.

Exhibit F: Judging a Book Author by Her Cover

You might say that Oregon police didn't have to look too hard for suspects in the June 2018 shooting death of Daniel Brophy before arresting his wife, romance novelist Nancy Brophy. After all, the 68-year-old author of such books as “The Wrong Husband” had also written a 2011 essay titled “How to Murder Your Husband.” The essay discusses motives, methods, and even dispenses advice to wives contemplating such an act to be “organized, ruthless, and very clever.” Perhaps it would have been clever not to publish an article called “How to Murder Your Husband” before allegedly murdering one's husband—just sayin'.

Inept fugitives and would-be thieves, aspiring deities, and adult children who require court intervention to leave the nest—these are but a few of my favorite “stranger things.”

John G. Browning is a shareholder at Passman & Jones in Dallas, where he handles a wide variety of civil litigation in state and federal courts.