Here's another old one.  I wrote this one about a year and a half ago.  Basically, we thought the guy that we were staying with in Germany was going to murder us in his secret dungeon.  This story, and his reaction to it, completely validated our fears.  Luckily... we were not murdered.  Safety in numbers folks.  Enjoy.

Officer Jim, Ace, and I arrived at Franz's House o' Fun (don't google that...) on time.  Franz did not.  We sat outside eating apples from his tree for somewhere over an hour.  Hungry, tired, and ready for Oktoberfest we waited.  He finally rode up on his bicycle and let us into the house that we would be staying in for the next 4 days.  Ahhhh...

There was a little Bavarian restaurant down the road where we decided to eat.  We walked.  On our way, we saw this HUGE German Shepherd that was as friendly as could be.  We stopped and played with it for a while before continuing to the restaurant.  To speed things up, Bavarian food is tasty.  Everything was lovely and Spaten is the best brew I have ever had in my life (drinking it in Munich is waaaaaaay better than back in the states).  Several glasses later, and with bellies full of schnitzel, we headed back to the house to get ready for Oktoberfest. 

As we were walking by the house that once housed this beautiful German Shepherd, we see a bloody brown and black pelt sitting on top of a car.  Yes... ON TOP OF A CAR.  Obviously, we had to investigate.  I pulled a fork out of my purse and handed it to Ace who proceeded to poke at it.  Having no flashlight, we pulled out our cell phones and cameras and took pictures so we could use the flash to see what it was.  It was what appeared to be the hind-quarters and tail of a large dog resembling a German Shepherd.  Gasp.

Realizing we just stumbled onto a dog-murder, Ace and I consulted with Officer Jim on how to properly dispose of the bloody fork where it won't be found.  We did not want to be connected.  I'm not entirely sure what the German dog murdering laws entail... but with their history of punishing people for menial things (like being a Jew), I didn't really want to find out.  It's about this time that a car comes barrelling around the corner.  A drunk teenager is on the hood holding on for his life and screaming while several more are inside and laughing. 

 

"Now that's what we call a clue," says Officer Jim.

 

Oh shit. 

 

Officer Jim goes to the house that the dog previously lived in and knocked on the door.  We were about to break the news.  No one answers. 

 

After a thorough assessment of the situation, we decided it would be in our best interest to not be caught with a bloody fork, in the middle of the night, in a foreign neighborhood where a murdered pet is present. 

We head back to Franz's.  We tell Franz what happened... his response?
"Ugh.  I don't like dogs."

Germany 1; Danielle... ZERO.