Wikipedia says there were only 69 Faberge eggs made. Heist films tell us there’s about a billion of them out there. Set designers seem to prefer them to a tasteful little sign saying “This character is rich.”
Of course, I’m contributing to the confusion. The top of my bookcase has a Maltese falcon, Faberge egg, the golden idol Indy stole at the beginning of Raiders, and a human skull (all replicas bought on Amazon. 
One of my favorite scenes (of many) from Leverage is Parker acting as a fine antiques auctioneer. She auctions something off, then picks up a small doodad. Says it’s a Faberge, looks it over, says “Fake” and tosses it over her shoulder. *crash*
There are some very valuable fake eggs, and many other designers made their own. I mean, with gold and gems and such, it certainly isnt worth tossing,
Ahhhh. You saw that episode of Miami Vice with Phil Collins too.
Yes, but we’re talking Parker, here. 
I have no idea who that is, nor the show,
Then I understand why you don’t getthat it’s funny (I’ve been binging Leverage after years of being encouraged to watch)
Youtube (not discourse) is being difficult today. If that’s the whole show, the scene starts at 33:20
Okay, I watched that, thanks.
What?? No “Rosebud” ??
Not a Mayan Crystal Skull?
Ted Bundy offered free advice to the Green River Killer Task Force, and it actually may have been solid advice that considered aspects of the case no one else had thought of. But it was Bundy’s idea, and he was just trying to get his execution date pushed back.
… after all, pain is just the sensation of weakness leaving your body!
yep, PLINK = they survived!
can confirm: I once was in a motorcycle accident with a severely mangled up leg (multiple exposed fractures) … first 10 min no pain at all … min. 11 and up was hell, tho (they had a guy lay on me to be able to get an x-ray, as I was shivering so uncontrollable) … and yep picking up your arm doesn’t sound so unreasonable, compared to let it sit there down on the ground and head back without it… (an action with a positive net expectation value, I’d say)
As a valet driver I “touch”…either park or bring out…around 50 cars a day.
I interact with the customer, maybe, 10-15 seconds at a time, asking for the ticket stub and handing over the keys.
Ordinary people and ordinary cars.
Unless I delivered to you a neon-green Ferrari, you’re wearing a rhinestone cowboy outfit, or tipped me a hundred dollar bill…I will forget you in a minute.
If the cops question me about some guy in a grey Nissan SUV last week, I will truthfully have no memory of that utterly unmemorable event.
I worked retail for a while- you’d have to stand out- have a longish chat with me or but a bunch of stuff.
40+ years ago, I worked in a pawnshop while working my way through college. Police would often bring us a picture of someone and ask “Is this the guy that pawned that 19” black and white TV a month ago?” The answer was always yes.
Looking back I’ll always feel bad when I was robbed and the police made me look through a big book of suspects they had and I picked the guy who most looked like the suspect. Not that it was actually him, just that he most looked like the suspect. To be fair it could have been him just an older photo, but I wasn’t 100% sure it was him either and he still got picked up and taken to jail. Not solely via my eye witness statement though, I was told later that he got arrested for something else when they searched his house and after that I had nothing to do with it.
The “usual suspects” photo book covers all the people with a high probability of being ongoing criminal offenders. Give the police probable cause for a search warrant and chances are better than even that some evidence of nefarious activity will turn up. It’s similar to why police preferentially pull over black male drivers; they’re the low-hanging fruit for police to luck out on an outstanding warrant, etc.
It’s the smashing into little pieces that tells you it’s fake!
What yanks me out of a sitcom faster than a bad laugh track is the machine-gun volley of witty retorts—fired off way too quickly. I get it, it’s TV land (not known for realism, especially with sit-coms), and we’ve got a tight 30-minute window, but could they at least wait half a breath before unloading that next zinger—to you know, think?? If they were cats, sure, I’d buy those lightning-fast feline reflexes. But then I’d have to swallow the whole ‘talking cats’ thing, and that’s an entirely different flavor of weird. Humans just aren’t that quick-witted.
I’m very fond of cats. But I’m glad cats can’t talk. Because I’m afraid we would very quickly discover that they’re both very dimwitted and very callous.