The Story of a Youth Master

One evening, I was leaving the city of New York, by way of the G.W. Bridge (for you non-Newyorkers, that's the George Washington Bridge). Once I crossed over into New Jersey, I hit the gas a little trying to get home, when Hilary (my lovely wife) suggested I slow down, so as not to get a ticket, to which I say: "We're fine, we won't get pulled over". Literally as I was finishing the words: "pulled over" a flash of red and blue went off in my rear view mirror, I was getting pulled over.
This is where normalcy took a back seat to weird. Three undercover cops get out of their unmarked car, stroll to my window and ask me for me license, registration and drugs. No joke! I told him that I have no drugs, and no one in my car does either. He then asked me to get out of the car and began to interrogate me with his two other cronie officers standing by. He asked me where I was going, what I was doing and such. Shortly into the interrogation, he stopped and made it clear that he thought I had drugs: "Where are the drugs? I have dogs at exit 1 that can and will sniff out your car for the drugs." It was then he noticed my rather muscular Italian friend in the back seat and asked: "That big guy, he has drugs, right?" I said: "No officer, we all go to a Christian college, I am studying to be a Youth Pastor and he (my muscular friend) is studying to be a Pastor". Right in the middle of this story however, one of the other officers gets right in my face and asks: "What the heck is a YOUTH MASTER!?!"