The Stolen Mustang

You find partiality in odd places. There is a ‘What’s Your Story?’ Space on MSN, supposed to gather good spaces from all around. There is not one Indian space mentioned there. I clicked a link that took me to the space of a woman who’s allegedly a behavioral psychologist, and there was not much concerning her work on her space, only a few pics of flowers and her mom. She is featured on ‘What’s Your Story?’. I am not. I’ll never be.

Let’s not whine, shall we? That’s not what I was taught.


‘Hello. This is XYZ Police. I am Officer Richard Emworth. How can I help you?’

‘I can’t hear anything. Hello?’

‘Hello. This is XYZ Police. How may I help you?’

‘Yes, officer, er… we have er… er… a car stolen.’

‘Okay. Whose vehicle?’

‘It’s one of our neighbours’.’

‘Excuse me, did you say that the vehicle belongs to a neighbour?’

‘Yes. He’s not at home, and he doesn’t even know about it. But I decided to report it.’

‘How can you be sure that the vehicle has been stolen?’

‘I saw it. I saw the whole thing. Three or four people, in a huge truck. Came and pulled up on his drive. They pulled the car up onto it and got out quick. His wife came out and started shouting but they were gone already.’

‘Whose wife?’

‘This neighbour. His wife.’

‘Oh. But, then… then why didn’t she report?’

‘Well, that’s a bit of a story, Officer —’

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for that now. What is the name of the owner of this vehicle —’

‘I’ll tell it quick, Officer. You see, the car that was stolen was her husband’s, not hers. Her car was driven to work by her husband today. And to tell the truth, Officer, I think she shouted just ‘cause she was shocked at the moment. What I really think is that she’s damn glad it was her hubby’s car and not hers.’

‘And you must be quite a friend here, eh? Tell me, what makes you report it?’

‘Well, you see, I thought it would be funny if I called the police and he answered. It would be freaking funny to report his car being stolen to none but him. As it is, it’s not him here. He always says his name when he picks up the phone, I know. And I don’t remember hearing that.’

‘Could you explain yourself a bit more clearly, or I’ll have to hang up. This is a public service institution, and I am afraid we are dragging this conversation too long.’

‘You still don’t get it? Oh, yeah, I forgot. My fault. You see, this neighbour of mine, he works in the police.’

‘I see. Vehicle registration number?’

‘How do you expect me to know that?’

‘Pre-owned or first hand?’

‘Er… pre-owned, I should say, although he’s always claiming he bought it first hand. But he says stuff like that. I don’t believe him. You can’t get a Mustang like that in the shops now. Ancient car. It’s really valuable. Beautiful bodywork. To tell the truth, you wouldn’t wanna lose one of those.’

‘Description please.’

‘Red Mustang, with a black stripe along the side.’


‘Red Mustang, black stripe.’

‘Hello? Are you there? Hello, Officer?’

‘Whose… whose, er… whose vehicle is this? Who owns this car?’

‘Dick. Sorry, Richard. Richard Emworth. Have you heard the name? Works in the police.’

‘Hello? Hello, Officer? Can you hear me?’



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