Mugged - fucksticks.
Years ago, walking down a relatively dodgey street in central Glasgow, me and two other guys are stopped and asked for directions by two *utter* scumbags, at which point mugger #1 reaches in his jacket and pulls out what appears (in my drunken state) to be a fully automatic pistol, and sticks it neatly under my mate's chin.

Oh dear.

Swift discussions ensue as to the authenticity of the gun from the guy who has it rammed under his chin - not the brightest thing, given the circumstances, and we eventually just drunkenly relinquish and say "oh for FUCKS sakes just give him your wallet so we can go home".

Ned #1 & #2 run off, then the adrenaline wears off, the threat of sobriety raises its ugly head, and we decide to report the incident to the cops at the station just round the corner - not thinking much could be done, but hey-ho, if they did catch them at least someone else wouldn't have to put up with the same experience.

Still worse the wear, we approach the incident desk and tell the duty copper what happened.

Literally, as soon as a gun was mentioned, the place was galvanized - two fully armed coppers appear in short order, and bundle two of us into a car to go and look for them. I stayed at the cop shop and had tea and bacon rolls. Result.

Apparently they caught up with the guys in under twenty minutes, held them at gunpoint, arrested, custody, etc etc, quite impressive so I'm told.

6-7 months later I pick up a copy of the Evening Times and see neds #1 and #2 on the front cover in a "Rogues Gallery" type banner page - GLASGOW'S CRACKDOWN ON CRIME i think was the headline, and the presiding judge had decided to set an example of our two aquantainces (along with every other unfortunate sod in the dock that day).

10 years each - that'll learn the fuckers.
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 21:29, Reply)