At exactly 5:25am -5:35am on Sunday 11 October an unknown male scroat-bag was seen cutting the lock off my bloody mountain bike. The bike was well secured with an approved device but sadly he managed to snip through the cable at its weakest point and gain access the bicycle.
It was a woman wearing stilettos walking about noisily on King Street that actually woke me. I had drifted off to sleep on the sofa and the falling room temperature was motivation enough to head off in search of warmth and the confines of cosy bed covers.
Don’t ask me why, but I decided to look out of the opaque window and spotted an unusually large shadow next to the bike. I snapped on the balcony lights, gingerly peered through curtains and to my amazement there was a guy there cutting away at the lock
As the red mist began to descend I was playing out a few scenarios. Burst out, pick him up and chuck him over the balcony, resulting in serious injury or even death that would have ultimately led to me enjoying a extended break in one of her majesties spa hotels, without the option of a morning paper.
Scenario two, jump out naked and scare the living sh1t out of him and give chase down the street. Naturally I really didn’t want to find myself sectioned by Cheshire Police and social services. Or just maybe it was the idea that exposure would highlight the fact that, in my case, the “large feet” rule doesn’t necessarily apply.
Sadly I resorted to a more passive means of assault, I reached over and switched on the 500w security light that was only few short meters away from the robber’s face. Immediately he stood up and started walking off suffering the effects of retina burn.
I watched the DESCRIPTION REMOVED TO PROTECT THE ROBBERS IDENTITY – YEAH, INSERT LAUGH – AND TO HELP POLICE IN CASE HE PRESENTS HIMSELF AT ANOTHER MORE SERIOUS SCENE - walk along the balcony towards the gate and down the steps and onto the pavement.

He then turned right down King street to make his escape, out of curiosity, I walked over to the kitchen window to see if he’d fled across the carpark. Amazingly the chap was sprinting along Moorside Road away from the crime of the century like a frightened gazelle in fear of its life.
I popped out to discover that he had actually snipped the bloody lock off the bike, My guess is that he’d just cut through the last wire when I clicked on the 500 wall mounted watt phase canon… Ahhh, what a disappointment for him.! (snigger, snigger) I even hid across the road at the Belle époque in the shadows armed with… a camera and a ultra powerful torch in the hope that he would return to the scene as he was soooo tantalizingly close to his goal.