I'm with Mr Dude on this one:

During a recent stop-over at Fribourg station, I was appalled to see a loud Russian fellow trying to steal a plate of cous-cous from the poor, runny nosed imam who happened to be sharing his bench on the platform.

After setting my dog upon the loathsome Tartar, I complained to the station manager, who assured me that he'd have the fellow shot, unless, by some means or other, a nice New Year's present of a box of fine Cuban cigars should find its way into his possession.

I wonder what became of the steppe-stomping stumpbrain: Is he still there, with his chained bear, furry hat and bottle of industrial floor cleaner, or has he been sent to Botswana for re-education?

We should be told! Someone email the CFF!