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This is a question I witnessed a crime

Freddy Woo writes, "A group of us once staggered home so insensible with drink that we failed to notice someone being killed and buried in a shallow grave not more than 50 yards away. A crime unsolved to this day."

Have you witnessed a crime and done bugger all about it? Or are you a have-a-go hero?
Whatever. Tell us about it...

(, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 11:53)
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World's dumbest paedo
Not a particularly entertaining title I’ll grant you but I was technically one of his victims.
Well it started that way
sort of.
As a snotty teenager I went to a lads grammar school, named after a renowned churchman, in a southern cathedral city with public school delusions of grandeur. Rugby, Latin lessons, the whole shebang. Generally it was a tolerable time but it included being subjected to “character building” cross country runs. I’ve no doubt it did me the world of good in terms of fitness but fuck me was it dull.

Consequently any source of entertainment that popped up on these post lunch perambulations around the city in question attracted me, and a number of other little scamps, like flies to shit.

On one such afternoon, when the games fields were allegedly too wet for practice (bollocks, the PE staff were just too hungover to do anything) we were sent on one of the longer routes around town that cut through a park in the city. After the grumbling had subsided off we trotted like the good boys everyone new we were.

An hour and a half in and we were approaching the home stretch through the park. Now the park was always a chance for the less well mannered of us (i.e. everyone) to walk, have a fag and generally arse about as the teachers never bothered getting out of their cars when keeping an eye on us (This subsequently changed after the events below).

So it happened that five sweaty teenage lads, all in T-shirts and rugby shorts and furtively smoking Marlboro lights were approached by an odd looking chap in a trench coat. Up he walks and mumbles something about never having seen such nice looking young men and he’d like to show us something. Eyebrows raised we said alright, and low and behold the mack was opened to reveal an extremely skinny and extremely naked body with possibly the worlds smallest penis putting on a brave but futile show. Now I know that had I been on my own this may have been pretty bloody disturbing. As it was, after a second of incredulity, I creased up laughing. My mate A, who was something of a wit by schoolboy standards, managed to stop smirking long enough to pronounce that his was much bigger than that and he was only 12. The would-be molester was not best pleased with our lack of shock/interest/terror/pleasure in having seen his shriveled cock and proceeded to try and grab the nearest, and smallest, of us, S. Now S was a slight blonde lad with angelic features who had all the mothers cooing and would soon have all the girls fainting. It was only us, his mates, that new him to be an utter utter bastard. The dirty old man found this out when he grabbed S by the T-shirt and then immediately had to let go after S put his cigarette out on the fellas hand.

Screaming and cursing he backed off slightly and started to describe in graphic detail what he was going to do to each and every one of us. As teenage lads we were impressed by his use of the common vernacular and, had in been directed at others, may have been tempted to offer a round of applause. As it was we decided that this particular specimen of oddity was best bought to the attention of the local plod. So A gets out his mobile – God bless technology hey? – and rings her majesty’s finest. Now him of the cocktail sausage knob realizes what we’ve done and decides it might be time to vacate the area with some alacrity. We don’t want our prize getting away however and fall back onto lessons learnt in biology (see kids, it is useful), more precisely a pack hunting approach. The five of us surrounded this lunatic and whenever the opportunity arose we’d dive in and trip/kick/wallop the weirdo. This culminated with a piece of artistry from S and the biggest of our clan, R, that saw S bait the unfortunate wannabe kiddy fiddler to the extent that he lost track of R who preceded to administer, on the run, possibly the biggest boot to the knackers I have ever seen. The word “atomic” was bandied around afterwards in reference to the ultimate wedgie of the same name.

So it was that two officers of the law turned up to find a middle aged man dressed only in a somewhat tattered trenchcoat, socks and shoes, in a foetal position with five teenagers from the local “posh school” around him. The local paper’s headline “Bishops boys crash flashers parade”.
(, Fri 15 Feb 2008, 17:29, 4 replies)
If only for the local papers headline and a fantastic use of the word atomic.
(, Fri 15 Feb 2008, 23:05, closed)
CLICKY indeed
mainly for the phrase "flashers parade". The imagery of that, a load of mac-clad unshaven types with placards ("Pervy and Proud", "Wierdo's, not Feared-O's" etc) all united in oddness. Quite.
(, Fri 15 Feb 2008, 23:52, closed)
Have a *click* from me!
(, Sat 16 Feb 2008, 0:27, closed)
This wasnt the archbishops school in Canterbury was it?
(, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 1:40, closed)

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