Reluctantly tearing its attention away from the delights of goat-molestation, the BBC turns briefly to another bizarre crime, in this case a rash of leg thefts in Los Angeles.
Someone has apparently taken a shine to the shapely prostheses of 16-year-old Melissa Huff, and has gone on to take the object of his affections itself. Twice. In the space of the last four months:
- her first cosmetic limb was stolen
- a replacement was donated by her outraged neighbours
- the original was promptly returned, flung over the garden wall
- peace returned for a while, and the original theft was forgotten, whereupon
- both the original and replacement fake feet were stolen from Melissa’s bedroom, and finally…
- four weeks later, the purloined pins turn up on the back seat of her mother’s car, covered in graffiti
I’m sure the graffiti would make interesting reading. What red blooded male, once in possession of both of a young lady’s false limbs, could resist making the “getting between her legs” joke? I know I couldn’t. But alas no details are offered.
Callous as it might sound, I find it hard to sympathise. What’s the point of having a false leg if you leave it lying around all the time to be stolen? Does she just hop a lot? Now her long-suffering community is getting ready to give her free leg #3. Surely it would be simpler just to hold a whip-round and buy her a burglar alarm, or failing that an inexpensive peg leg and matching parrot combo. At least the parrot could keep an eye on the leg…
Prosthetic legs, yesterday. I hate people who put their feet up on the chair, don’t you?