In the pale Moravian dawn, while honest citizens nursed their kofola hangovers, the constabulary-those knights in rumpled nylon-swooped upon the tile-roofed cottage of Mister Tomáš Jiřikovský as if spring were ending, not beginning. Our hero (one must choose one’s nouns delicately) greeted them from the ridge-beam like a startled stork, more astonished by the ladder than its bearers. Down he came, dignity slightly pinched but humor intact-one could almost hear him murmuring “Tak život je takový… c’est la vie in cryptocurrency.” 🪜
Where Sheep Vanish, Wolves Count Coins
Dragoun, the prosecutor with a surname that sounds like a Balkan folk-dance, issued a small encyclopedia of Chapter-and-Verse charges: Section 216(1) for laundering, 216(4)(b) for creative obscurity, 216(5)(b, c) for stubborn hush-money, and-why stop there-Section 283(1, 4b) for manufacturing paradise powders. Each Latin numeral rang out like a church bell for the Devil’s matins. 🔔
Yet what is a sermon without relics? The constabulary extracted new hardware wallets (still humming), bags of banknotes (still crinkling), and one rather embarrassed house-cat. The cat, I am told, is not under investigation; the Bitcoin, of course, is guilty until proven talkative. 🐈⬛
When someone asked about the emperor of this travelling circus, a guard shrugged muttered, “Previously a trafficker, currently a headline, eternally a nuisance.” A career in three lines-most poets never manage the feat.
A Minister Declines Elevation, Accepts Pension
Enter Justice Minister Pavel Blažek, corpulent with innocent astonishment. He swore he never sniffed the damp cologne of crime upon his 468 gleaming digital sheep. “I simply opened the stable door; who knew they wore electronic collars from the underworld?” he protested, palms open like a man displaying freshly laundered emptiness. 👐
The public-ever the stern governess-threw onions. One week later the minister shed his portfolio the way a snake slithers from last season’s skin. “My conscience is clean,” he announced, clicking ‘submit resignation’ with that same invisible flourish a magician uses to vanish rabbits.
For now, Tomáš sits in fresher fetters, scribbling IOUs to providence. Prosecutor Dragoun reads his ledger aloud like bedtime scripture, verse by mortifying verse. Meanwhile, the Czech koruna glitters in the vault, wondering whether coins, like souls, can be laundered whiter than snow. Perhaps next spring will tell; until then-“Pozor na střechy, přátelé!” ⚖️
Disclaimer: No sheep were actually harmed in the creation of this moral tale; only reputations succumbed to natural selection. 😇
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2025-08-16 10:16