Sneek´s prank calls.

This story is about my friend, let us call him Bjorn Sneek.
It is actually the name he  uses when he makes his phone calls.
He  can  call whenever and to whomever. This is the reason why I write
this book. To warn you. Because he can even strike you.

Bjorn Sneek is a harmless person on weekdays. He is thirty-five years
old, works at an office from nine to five and lives in a two-room
bachelor's apartment in a suburb of Stockholm. He wears specs, his
clothes are conventional and he makes a modest and nice impression.

Some people would say that he is pretty boring. When he visits a party,
he mostly sits by himself in a corner and swears. And when he is home, he
usually reads one of the three magazines he subscribes, namely
"Mickey Mouse", "How to win horse-race betting" and "Local Church information",
the latter he gets for free once a month.

Sometimes it happens that he takes a drink or two. Indeed, it doesn't happen so
often anymore, specially after an embarrassing incident on the Vaxholm road.
His driver's licence was three days old and it didn't get any older than
that. It was winter, snowing and he was out testing his new car. He was
very happy with his new driver's licence. Unfortunately so happy that he
had been celebrating it for three days at the Vaxholm's City Hotel and now
was on his way home. He ran out of gas and parked his car along the
roadside, right in front of a telegraphpost.

It was snowing abundantly and it was dark outside. He took the spare
can and filled up the car. When this was done, he sat into the car, he
switched on the windscreen, lights, set the engine going and put in the
first gear. Too bad, he didn't see the telegraphpost that was between
the frontlights of his car. Because of the slippery road condition,
the car stood jammed against the post and the back wheels were sliding
round and round on the icy ground.

He saw a continuous stream of cars coming against him and therefore thought
that he was on his way home. He was turning, changing gears and looking
around for about twenty minutes and thought he was almost home
when a police officer opened the door. Bjorn Sneek was very surprised
first, but after some thinking it all made sense. There was
something strange - cars were passing him also from behind. He thought that
these people were making insane overtakings and that it depended on,
according to the police report, that "they were so bloody drunk".
But now he got the explanation.

It was in fact this incident that later made Bjorn Sneek the master
of table tennis in the local prison for drunk drivers. Back to Sneek´s
drinking habits. He seldom drinks, but when he does, he turns
into a totally different person. Not that you would notice it in his looks.
People who don't know him, hardly notice anything. He always keeps
his calm way, even when an alcohol test would show too little blood in the alcohol.
But in this condition he contracts a very serious complaint by the new found
name of "telephoniasis Sneekiensis". And this is when he hits you with his
prank calls. And I warn you. He is very difficult to recognize.

He knows all kinds of dialects, and can sound like a priest,
shoemaker or a business manager, all according to his needs.
This book is about Sneek's phone calls.
All the names, addresses and phone numbers are assumed
and every similarity with reality is a coincidence.

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