Tramps and Childs
Not really a mugging as such, but me and a mate were walking back from the chip shop once, when a homeless feller offered us a copy of the Big Issue. We declined, and made to move on, but the chap decided he wanted some of our food. Cue us increasing our rate of walk as a homeless man followed us down Canterbury High Street calling out "Gimme a bit of your sausage!" "I just want a few chips!" and other such phrases.

In the chav-infested part of Kent that I grew up, one of the most common occurances is being unsuccessfully threatened by people half your age. My favourite such incident occured when my mate Jim was waling back home one afternoon, and went something like this;

Chavling (barely taller than Jim's waist): 'Ere bey, you gotta fag I could borra'!
Jim: Sorry, I don't smoke.
Chavling: Gissa fag bey!
Jim: I don't have any. I don't smoke.
Chavling: I'll get my bruvver on you!
Jim looks behind him to see chavling's brother who, slightly taller, reaches as far as Jim's chest.
Jim: I can't give you a fag, because I don't have any.
Jim goes to walk off. Chavling's brother hits him on the back of the head with something. Jim remains standing. Chavling and brother run off. Jim shruggs and walks the rest of the way home.

Would apologise for length, but the chavlings didn't think size mattered, and neither do I.
(Uncle Comrade, Mon 19 Jun 2006, 13:04, Reply)