Oh, for a life of (petty) crime...
Well personally, my history as a criminal mastermind extends as far as a few toilet rolls from the University toilets, the odd stolen drink/cigarette from a club and one packet of Scampi Fries that I still feel quite bad about, but I've met a few people that have made shoplifting into an art form.

For some unfathomable reason, our craphole High School decided that to mark the Millennium they'd take a group of 40 or so Salford kids to the pristine, trusting nation of Canada. Bad plan. We hadn't left Manchester Airport's departure lounge before two enterprising young fellows had appropriated a couple of cartons of duty free cigarettes. The nine hour flight sped by as my light-fingered friends emptied the duty-free trolley, and then Canada stretched out in front of us like a kleptomaniac's wet dream. In little over a week, five lads in particular stole over £1,000 worth of souvenir keychains, hockey paraphernalia, electrical goods and, in one memorable escapade, a full-sized faux moose head. How they managed it, I'll never know.

But even this valiant attempt pales in comparison to what I witnessed in a minibus at a service station. As I sat there, waiting to get back on the road, three pikeys who were travelling to London with us appeared holding plates. Three full English breakfasts were placed on an upturned lager box, followed by three knives, three forks, three cups, three saucers, three teaspoons, a pot of tea, a handful of milk cartons, a box of napkins and six rounds of toast. How anyone has the sheer brass bollocks to walk into a Road Chef, order three breakfasts with extras, pocket it all and carry it to a waiting getaway vehicle without being caught or spilling any is absolutely beyond me, but hats off to them.
(Psycorp603, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:36, Reply)