My car is alive! And probably well! The police rang me last night to say they had him in their holding yard. He'd been involved in a robbery. I imagined him leaning against the wire fence, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, sullen and rebellious - but also incredibly good-looking - in his black leather jacket.
Bad boy Subi. I love him so.
9 comments:
he is the product of a broken home...what can you expect?
So true. Single mother and a deadbeat dad!
Now, promise me that when you get him back we shall conduct our own forensic analysis of the car. I am still annoyed that we let ourselves down with those footprints. Not just because I like to pronounce it 'foomprints', but also because it could have been just the thing to get Peppermint Crisp fired up again: Here are some plaster casts of a crime scene I made earlier...
Is the notebook safe?
We will do that. Definitely. But which of us shall be the cocaine addict?
In a robbery? What sort of robbery? Something thrilling? Will they tell you or must you piece it together yourselves?
Rodney: the notebook status is still unknown. The police proved remarkably reluctant to spend some time looking for it for me.
Your Highness: all I know is six men appeared in court today. This is confusing. Subi only seats five.
Oh, those Subarus. Sigh.
Bravo.
But keep in mind the apocryphal stories about burglars and toothbrushes.
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