Constable, hand me that phone book!
You walk into the police station and realise that, contrary to what Hollywood movies would suggest, an Italian accent simply isn't enough to get by. A very large lady (think yo-mama) approaches and begins to put on a pair of latex rubber gloves. You whimper. You tell them that you'll tell them anything. You then proceed to tell them everything... everything, several days later having "broken" all the police officers with the sordid stories of your life, you casually walk out. You stroll over to the Roma Termini, pay your €50 to use the public toilets and proceed to find yourself a cubicle. You notice something unusual, there are four cubicles and the toilets in these cubicles are filled with eels, tobacconists, fairies and shit. Which one do you take?