Someone is going to feel this hedgehogs wrath....

The scene: I’m cleaning up after Deutsche Telekom has installed an extra line to my flat (SDSL, in addition to the POTS & ISDN I already have. German cable ducts are not designed to incorporate three phone lines per flat - IOW, lots of plaster dust).

The doorbell rings, I hear someone say something like “pizza” over the notoriously bad intercom - I haven’t ordered a pizza, but WTF, I let the fellow in. Two very polite guys appear on my doorstep - the word apparently wasn’t “pizza”, it was “Polizei”. Yup, that’s German for “Police”. Let’s just say that I didn’t expect that.

Two gentlemen from the “Bundes Kriminal Amt” would like to compare my ugly mug to a snapshot from a surveillance camera, taken during a bank robbery. Somehow I didn’t expect that either.

I more or less keep my cool (you try to keep your palms dry with two foreign-language policemen in your home), ask them in, they take out said photo. It takes no time to realize that I couldn’t possibly make my nose protrude from a balaklava (sp ?) like that, we check calendars and sure, I have ironclad alibis for both dates, tensions go down considerably and jokes are being cracked (“So, what did you do with the money?”) when I ask - of curiousity - how come they asked me, of all people ? Answer: “We can’t disclose names, but an old schoolmate of yours thought he recognized you”. That, I certainly did not expect.

WHAT THE HELL?? A schoolmate, apparently living in Hamburg, decides that I’m a likely suspect in a robbery case ? I know of one (1) schoolmate in Hamburg, and I don’t think he’d consider me a likely bank robber. Somewhere out there, someone’s having quite the joke on me, and I have no way whatsoever of finding out who he is or how to get back at him. Not that I’d want to get in touch anyway, now.

So, to any of Spiny’s long lost friends reading this: If we were to reunite soon, I might be somewhat reserved and ask some very loaded questions.

And to the guy who thought (I’m using the verb “think” in its broadest possible definition) he recognized me: Up yours with 7-foot cast-iron fence. If you didn’t recognize the guy in the photo (and obviously you didn’t), you could’ve said so. Providing the police with the first name that spins through your bizarre little mind to prove that you’re a good citizen does not help anyone at all. But apparently I must’ve left quite the impression, eh ? And come to think of it, doesn’t it suck that they asked you before me ? Remain in no doubt that we’re not pals anymore, if ever we were.

S. Norman

Dude, I know the maintenance on a Ducati can run in the higher numbers, but robbing a bank?? You should have just asked, mate!


All kidding aside: that just sucks hairy donkey arse, to use the Queens English. Why does it have to be someone who lives in Hamburg, BTW? Couldn’t it be anywhere in Germany?

Another thing that just popped into my head: maybe the “an old highschool chum recognised you” routine is their usual way of giving an adequately vague answer to a question they’re not supposed to comment on?

You’re probably right, it’s presumably shorthand for “Now you’re asking too much”. Still, someone must’ve pointed them my way - and that bastard is up for a good talking-to if & when. Grumble.

I even saw the photo - I would’ve worn something more covering, that has to the most pathetic bank robbers outfit ever. Assuming that I’d rob a bank in that is an affront to my intelligence as well, goddammit. Grumblegrumble.

So what would have happened if you had somewhat resembled this person, and didn’t happen to know where you were on the dates in question? They would have had to come up with more than that to book you, wouldn’t they?

I honestly don’t know what it would take. The picture was quite good and wouldn’t match that many people (nose & lower face was in full view).

Had I been a probable match with the picture and without any alibi at all, it would have looked pretty bleak. I guess that’s when it comes down to street smarts - if they’d had a bad feeling about me, I suppose they might have taken me in. If for nothing else, then to shake me up a bit and get me of my home turf. WTF, they have a job to do, and I guess it would’ve been proper ground for arrest.

But it sure does make one wonder about the drawbacks of a solitary lifestyle…

Hey, that sounds like an excellent practical joke! Did you actually get a look at the badges? DO you have any friends who know some police officers? (it’s not April yet is it?)

Why do I feel this sudden urge to take the first train up to Hamburg and kick some serious ass??

Ooooh, nobody messes with my Snormy this way!

I would compose a good rant here, but screw that, I want blood! I want vengeance! I want to make this person suffer…yes, suffer.

On second thought, I think I will go up to Hamburg and strike up an aquaintance with this person…befriend them, allow them to confide in me. Learn their weaknesses, strengths, their very dreams so that I might smash them to pieces as they quiver in the corner, too demoralized to stop me.

You can’t plan really good vengeance without knowing a person pretty damn well and that is exactly what I intend to do. Could take days, weeks, months, no matter…I’m very, very patient.

Now when is the next ICE to Hamburg?

NOBODY can screw with my Snormy and get away with it!

[sub]And this is in no way connected with my longing to get Snormy to take me to Molly Malones for beer and music. Nope, ain’t connected at all…;)[/sub]

May the unamed informant excrete a porcupine…

[wait for it]


Promise me if I ever make you mad you will tell me so I can make it right before you destroy my life!

All the gritching and moaning about little stuff that’s appeared in Pit threads (and I’ve written some of it) pales beside this. For pure fright and anonymous treachery, this one takes the cake. Hell, it takes the whole damn bakery.

If there’s anything you need toward adequate payback–balance–it’s yours for the asking, SpiNorm. Inspiration, logistics, you name it. You’ve been well and truly adopted by a group of bright, warped and evilly inventive group.

Revenge is a dish best eaten cold, very cold. The lying, treacherous scuzzbucket who fingered you is nervous already. Good. That’s a weakness. Time’s your friend on this one; it plays on nerves exquisitely. Keep alert and sooner or later the putz will blurt it out to the wrong person. Better still, research back. You know when and where the crime was committed. Which of your acquaintances would have been in proximity?

Identify then sink your fangs when the quisling asshole least expects it.


Excuse me, but I did not consent to this.

Spiny, can’t you get the Piranha Brothers to exact your revenge?

He would, but last time they “helped” him by nailing a coffee table to his head.

  • and then there was the time where they nuked Luton, that might be thought of as overkill.

Seriously, thanks for the support, fellas - I was a bit besides myself when I posted, but half a bottle of Chilean Merlot and a good night’s sleep will do wonders for one’s perspective.

Not that I’m not still mad like hell at the quisling asshole (thanks, TVeblen), whoever, whatever and wherever he is.

S. Norman