Jun 03, 2007 23:29
There came a thunderous knocking on my door a mere matter of minutes before. It was a member of the Metropolitan Police, looking for two Danish fugitives from justice with names like Abba members who apparently live at this address.
I am simultaneously amused and a little bit frightened. The thing is, it does seem entirely too plausible that there are two Danish criminals living in this house with me being completely oblivious.
Maybe in the understairs cupboard with the weird smell. We never look in there.
Or maybe in the walls ...