It: Get the door, Pfitzer!
Me: Can you do not even have his morning toilet without having to organize this riot here?
He: I warned you, Pfitzer.
Me: Listen, I have explained that with the money it takes something else. We are well on the way, would not you agree?
He: Pfitzer, I do not care whether you are there just shit or not. I'll pick you out of there.
Me: Wait a minute ... I speak again with you ... hey, did you shoot the fuse out?
He: Yes.
Me: How could they, after all, you stand at the door. Bloody hell.
Without electricity, I was in a fix in my windowless bathroom. I wiped my blind ass off and then discussed with William Jr., of the staircase, while I was in boxer shorts in my hall was not fresh and the smell from the toilet blew over, as well as the Badlüftung no longer ran.
He: Because someone probably has not paid its electricity bill. Now they have to come out.
Me: Nothing I have to.
He: At 14 clock are the tenant. They would like to look at the apartment. From within.
I: Your father has given his money. How can I get it because when you are here trellis?
He: Oh yes, obtain the money. Pfitzer, you have already told yesterday. Your money can wait a long time.
injustice he had not. I had no idea where I should take the money that I was guilty Wilhelm family. My investment in the German national team had failed and the dual benefits sufficient just to my account to finally run the depths of the credit line. As I thought so and Wilhelm I with the potential tenant, who asked to be let on time by 14 clock, hard, made a clear thought to take, I looked by chance on the locker key. I probably will not find anything this locker. At the very most porn magazines. But it is the only chance. Once again I climbed
balconies and scaffolding on the road and waved my butt on the bus. Fortunately, found himself behind a bank switch still-working staff.
He: Excuse me, how can I help you?
Me: I'm here for a locker.
He: I know you. If you do not ... Doe?
I: Pfitzer my name. Chris Pfitzer. I have a key, you see?
He: I could swear you are the Doe.
I: Box number 127th
He: But you have rental ban, Mr. Smith.
Me: Here's my card. Chris Pfitzer, you see? And here is the key.
He: Oh, I'm sorry. Then I have you confused actually. As for the key because I can not help you.
Me: Why not?
He: Well, he's not from us.
"Hands up! Attack! "That's the limit. A masked man with a stooping gait approached the counter. "Full-making los fully make! "He handed the bank employees a jute bag from the pharmacy. "And keene tricks!"
"The airsoft gun is unlocked but did not," I said. "Pfitzer? What are you doing here? "The alleged gangster asked softly. "You should not be here." Now I knew him only under the wig and false beard. He looked younger by years. GEZ-investigator was apparently burned down so far that he had needed more than I do. "I want money. So the same as them, "I replied.
With every second, the former fee-collectors nervous. The bank employee was allowed to and calmly grabbed the money. "Faster now," said the GEZ-man. A shrill sound of howling, the employee had raised the alarm. In a panic, the investigators picked up the jute bag. Mistakenly, he caught me and pulled me to his chest. "I have a hostage," he shouted. "And I'm going to go now!"
Me: Where did you get the getaway car?
He: Sold. Did I tell yet.
I: You rob a bank without a getaway car?
He: When the buses would arrive on time and the cashier had not much time left, then there is now no problem.
Me: I've just ripped my jeans on the barbed wire fence of a garden plot, there is a problem.
He: Do not forget, you are my hostage.
Me: Oh yes. And what if I did not flee with you? Shoot me then?
He: Mr. Pfitzer, I have done that for you. I'm really sorry for what I did with you. And I could give you so far only 200 €, plagues me my bad conscience.
Me: Man, why did you not simply manipulated football games? That would have worked better determined.
He: Would you tell me now how you make money? You did well obviously anything.
I: A key I have. A locker key. Only I do not know the appropriate box.
He: And the contents?
Me: Not that either.
He: Well, if that's all what you have, I hope you can manipulate football games.
Me: Well, I know as a sports cafe. But without seed money - no chance.
He: What do we do now?
Me: What you do is, I do not care. I'm going to go home.
He: But wait Mr. Pfitzer, as even the police.
Me: Even better, you can collect like my landlord's son.
He: But I will want to collect. Mr. Pfitzer, I ask you to help me.
It was pity. I could have scrapped the old man just does not stand alone in the allotment colony. From my last money we ate a few cheeseburgers at a fast food restaurant and rented for a night in a pension. There are at least current. And if someone is standing in the hallway, I can be assured that it is only the pimps of the prostitute from the neighboring room.
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