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This is a question Moving home

"Moving house is one the more stressful moments in life," claims Social Hand Grenade. What horrible things have happened to you as you shift your black bin bag of undies from one hovel to the next?

(, Tue 6 Jan 2015, 13:17)
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Liverpool, 2009
I should preface by saying that, whilst my story does involve many themes of a stereotypical nature about the above Merseyside city, it really is actually a very nice place with really friendly people, and I spent many happy years there. But anyway...

It was 2009, and my future wife and I were in the process of moving house. We were just moving across the road, so she was tidying and deep cleaning to get our deposit back, whilst my friend and I ran back and forth with boxes and furniture. On the way back from one shuttle run we couldn't open the front door. This would make leaving the building (and moving the furniture) difficult. But wait - there was a kindred spirit on the other side, wanting to travel in the opposite direction to visit his mate! We spoke through the door, and he ended up buzzing my flat so my friend could run upstairs and unlock the jammed mechanism.

I'm not naive, and I'd been apprehensive about giving someone my flat number just as I was going out, but I literally had no other option if I wanted to get my moving done. When I opened the door my worst fears were realised. Imagine every unfair stereotype of a Scouse child that you could imagine. I'd just quit teaching in a horrible school in Liverpool so I could imagine a fair bit, and this kid embodied everything I'd hated about the experience. He'd probably nicked his haircut. He walked past my mate and we telepathically knew that he'd broken the door -and what was going to happen next.

We sprinted back to my old flat, grabbed some heavyish stuff (bar stools and an Ikea rocking chair), and got back as fast as we could. As we returned we saw a mutual friend who also lived in my new building unpacking some Ikea furniture from a van (Warrington Ikea was close, okay?!). He asked if we'd seen a dodgy looking kid roaming the halls. We filled him in on the situation, and our posse swelled to three.

We made contact in the stairwell. He was putting a computer game in his deep-pocketed robbing trousers; a game with a distinctive mark on the case. My friend ran up to the flat as my neighbour and I questioned him.

"Hi mate, which flat have you been to see?"
"I live in 32. Which flat have you been to see?"
"Er, I meant 42..."
"These flats only go up to 36, and that's my game. You've just robbed me."
"Fuck off!"

My friend came down and confirmed the break in, so we called the police. The thief tried to scarper, but my friend had blocked the door with the furniture as he went to disk 999. The scally still resisted, but my neighbour used to do Kung Fu, and I was about two weeks away from doing my first Dan in Ju-Jitsu. He was staying right where he was!

Those chain emails about off-duty marines destroying petty criminals might sound good, but you don't want the police to arrive and see an outnumbered teenager with a brand new case of brain damage, so containment was the order of the day. He managed to wriggle out of my first headlock when I saw him going puce and loosened it slightly (again, didn't want him to lose consciousness, as it could end up on me as the trained individual). My neighbour then tried to put on a wrist lock on him but he snaked out of that (he was a slippery little fuck!). I then decided that he needed to be grounded, so I threw him to the floor. Or I would have done, if the wall of the corridor hadn't broken his fall. This knocked the stuffing out of him and he sat down on the stairs, before trying to bribe his way out by giving me my stuff back (only the Wii games, mind, not the fucking PS3 controllers he'd nicked as well).

The police arrived.

"Hello again Ryan!"

Turns out this wasn't his first time: he'd moved his operation down into Toxteth as everyone was wise to him in nearby Dingle, and he was going to get his mum evicted because of his thievery. He had his brains to fall back on though - he'd kicked in (the fortunately empty) flat 23 before my flat 32.

We got the moving done (just!). I got to see a proper forensics team in action (they obtained a fragment of shoe print from where he kicked our shitty Yale lock in and were able to identify the trainer brand on sight - I thought that was quite impressive!). I got two new locks fitted the next day and got to know our building's maintenance manager really well. He made us feel really welcome - he didn't even mind that the forensics dust was still clinging onto the door when we left three years later!

Tldr: Scouse kid shouldn't have robbed my flat. He got a year.
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 1:02, 27 replies)
Have a click for "He'd probably nicked his haircut."

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 6:47, closed)
Where IS Amorous Badger these days?

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 7:24, closed)
so much fail here

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 8:31, closed)
Careful, he knows kung fu

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 9:32, closed)
Are you saying he's SuperMatt?

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 15:13, closed)
he'll shove you into a lamp post.
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 15:16, closed)
It's always about the sausageings with you, isn't it?

(, Tue 13 Jan 2015, 21:22, closed)
This is a spoof, right?
Did you roundhouse him to the face to sort out THAT little idea?
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 10:03, closed)
Can you change this so that you threw him through the wall?
Then he walks back out, with his metal skeleton showing, and you engage in a furious duel to the death, culminating in you twisting off his skull and casually tossing it over to the late arriving police officer, and uttering an appropriately witty one-liner.
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 10:11, closed)
"He shouldn't have ...
lost his head ... "
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 10:20, closed)
JCVD to play Dowbocop in the big screen adaptation.
Or Seagal, if all of the stolen goods can be replaced with sandwiches.
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 12:14, closed)
Jacob Kreuz Veld Disease?

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 13:19, closed)
That's the one.
He was especially good in that film where he played a time-travelling cop. Remember that one? "The Cop Who Traveled Through Time". Or that one where someone was trying to shoot him, but he proved to be a very hard target? " The Target That Could Not Be Hit ".
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 14:43, closed)
You lose points for not mentioning any mid-range Japanese saloon cars,
But you gain them for inclusion of non-specific Kung Fu, and 1st Dannery.
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 11:39, closed)
My favourite bit is
" I then decided that he needed to be grounded"
(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 12:41, closed)
... permanently.

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 12:51, closed)
imma re-read this whole thread out loud in the voice of john bunnell

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 17:58, closed)
I read the entire site in the voice of Judge Judy.

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 20:00, closed)
I imagine you doing that, looking like this:

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 20:50, closed)

(, Mon 12 Jan 2015, 21:04, closed)
The only thing that could improve this thread, now,
would be a hundred variations on this theme.
(, Tue 13 Jan 2015, 8:58, closed)
be careful what you wish for

(, Tue 13 Jan 2015, 9:45, closed)

(, Thu 15 Jan 2015, 8:42, closed)

(, Thu 15 Jan 2015, 15:00, closed)

(, Tue 13 Jan 2015, 14:34, closed)
Nah,'didn't want him to lose consciousness, as it could end up on me as the trained individual'
is the best bit.
(, Tue 13 Jan 2015, 1:15, closed)
nicking my stories like an Muslim in a blind school

(, Wed 14 Jan 2015, 20:40, closed)

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