An Investigation Into My Burglarization

The rumours are true, I have been robbed like the dog that I am, but fear not, for I, Chin, have seen nearly enough minutes of The Bill in my lifetime to piece together an entire episode. What has been stolen? My laptop.

P.S. I will find my laptop.

The investigation began at the top of my horrible stairs. Since my last photo-journal I have moved to Cardiff. Behold my horrible stairs, walls and carpet.


On my way out I noticed something peculiar; I was nearly out of electricity, gas or whatever powers my fridge. The number 16. Could this be a clue? It was very unlikely, but a keen detective mind such as mine never lets anything slip by.


Four bins standing side by side, each as suspicious as the last.


By Christ, what is this? This isn't child's play anymore. I'm dealing with a serious professional. This is obviously a warning. He wants to show that he means business, but the day Sherlock Chin runs home crying after a little bin bomb is the day that is not today.


A clue! There is no doubt in my mind that this can belonged to the criminal. He's taunting me. If this was a tv show I'd take it in for forensic evidence, but this isn't CSI: Miami and unless he drank out of it whilst bare handed, spat all over the top, waited a couple of hours to piss the drink back into the can and then finally ejaculated a respectable amount of semen into it, there's not a hope in hell of getting anything from it. That's just how things work in real life.


Now that's a getaway bike I've ever seen one.


Here is a man who would not take it anymore. He doesn't look like me, but I assure you that he is.


50! That was the crime number that the police gave me. Something smells fishy and I'm going to catch it, cook it and eat it.


Textbook dressing a laptop up as a baby and pushing it around in a wheelchair for non-disabled babies to avoid attention. You don't fool me, woman. I'll get you. I'll get you. Sadly I never caught her, because although I'm not afraid to bend the law to achieve my goals, I'd be a fool to jaywalk on this busy road.


An orange bus! Now I've seen everything. Everything except my laptop. That must mean it's close.


It's some sort of thing. My mind boggles. Too much information to take in. I'll deal with this later.


It's spelt Inter Milan, you fools.


I was getting warm, I could feel it. Albany rd, not even the toughest of cops dare show their faces around these parts anymore. Not without backup, anyway. It was time to bust some chops. Something wasn't right. That army man's army feet were stuck to the ground like cement to a brick. Was the government involved? I couldn't write them off.


My first, last and only lead, because I don't know where any other pawn shops live.


There were a lot of things in the Cash Generator at low, low prices, but not my laptop.


I decided that if I was to make it through the night I'd need some electricty for my flat. The post office was the perfect place to get my hands on some.


We can make a photo booth that can do all that, but we can't build a satelite that uses infra-red mind tracking to find my laptop? Go figure.


Like some sort of fool, who didn't used to be a fool, but was in a car crash, banged his head and became a fool, I realised that I didn't have my credit card and my debit card didn't work, because I reported it stolen when I couldn't find it after the break-in.


Another blue bike. A switch flicked in my head. Could this be a case of multiple criminals posing as one by all having the same colour bike? Without a doubt in my mind I can say yes.


Why is this S big and a different colour? Is someone trying to tell me something? What does this mean? What does any of it mean? S? S? Superman? Nah, it couldn't be.


Student Services. How very vague. Unquestionably a dummy company, a front for something bigger, something sinister, something with my laptop at its very heart.


Half beds! What madness is this? Could the thief be some sort of half bed, half machine hybrid? A man made of bedlegs, pillows and lasers, but with the heart of a human man? A heart that cries out for him to stop his criming ways? A heart that weeps at every inhuman act it is forced to wintness? Yes, it must be, it's the only logical explanation. Who would have thought that this journey would have ended with me feeling sorry for the man who stole my laptop? Well the journey is far from over; someone put a bed in that man and I intend to find out who.


Jesus, it's the calling card of Mickey the Fridge. I knew I was getting in deep, but damn, I think I'm drowning.


Back on my street I had time to collect my thoughts. This isn't really my street, even though it pretty much is.


I needed backup, it was time in to call in some favours from an old friend. Like all good vigilante detectives I have a key that opens any door.


John was in his room mourning the loss of his broken decks. He was just pacing around his room with tears falling from his eyes and beeps shooting out of his mouth.


I couldn't help but notice this. I had a feeling that sooner or later I was going to have to break this glass.


Sitting in his living room I looked out of the window and saw my garden, a horrible, dirty thing where nothing can grow. If the thief had timed everything to perfection he could have jumped straight onto a passing train as he ran with my laptop and been at Cardiff Central within minutes, from there he could have gone anywhere; London, Manchester, Swansea, Merthyr Tydfil, even Neath.


Oh boy. Quantum Leap was on. It got me to thinking. Maybe if I could leap into the body of the thief I could get my laptop, take it to my flat, jump off a bridge and then leap back into my body just before the criminal is crushed under the weight of his own mattress.


Evan entered the room. He was talking on his cellphone. Talking secrets. Laptop secrets.


HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Joey done a funny.


We set off under a cloak of darkness to get to the bottom of this once and for all.


Like sushi, but cooler and from the future.


The Japanese woman was winning the race. She couldn't wait to get her hands on some of that Zushi.


Something's not right here. Nobody uses phone boxes anymore. I was suspicious. Highly suspicious.


I was like a kid in a sweet shop and on my day off and everything.


Something was definitely not right. First the man in the phonebox and now this. I'd stumbled onto something far greater than I could have ever imagined. This wasn't about my laptop at all. What were they putting in those jars?


I needed to cool off. My mind was going four miles a minute. Banana flavoured milk would ease my overworked Batman brain. I wonder if a monkey had sex with cow and then had a baby, would the baby make banana milk? There's no reason why it would, but if a monkey and a cow could produce a child I guess anything's possible.


Like all result-getting detectives I needed a lolly.


The Russians! That was it, I was out. Things were getting a little too real.


I opened my door wondering if I was really out. Would they Russians let me just walk away knowing what I know? I was going to be spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, that much I was sure of.


But at least I got some electricity. For now.


To be continued?