When a long-haired and bearded man walked into Alexandria's Racquetball Plus Fitness Center dripping with blood, it didn't take long for the police to be called to the scene. The center's employees were terrified -- the man had simply strolled right in and headed straight for the showers, presumably to rinse the sweet taste of an ax murder off his body.
"Do you have Dr. Bronner's?"
A SWAT team surrounded the club and officers were sent in to question the staff, who were likely finding all sorts of different ways to say the phrase "Sweet tapdancing Jesus, that man is covered in blood."
It turned out it actually was sweet tapdancing Jesus. Local man Lee Backhaus had just played Jesus in Zion Lutheran Church's annual Easter Passion Drama, and had simply needed to wash away the fake blood he had accumulated after a hard day of hitting the stations.
This whole situation just screams "light beer ad."
It turned out that Backhaus was not only a card-carrying member of the club, but had actually warned the club's staff well in advance that he'd be there that day, bloody and terrifying, to use the club's showers. The staff had simply forgotten, presumably having been trained by the London Police (see Pg. 1). Though to be fair, that would be an awesome way to get away with a murder. Plan it for right after your passion play, then stroll right to the showers and wash the DNA away. "Don't worry, everybody! It's just me, Jesus, washing off the fake blood from my crown of thorns and this here chainsaw."
When police officers in Hertford, U.K., arrived on the scene where it was suspected that three gangsters were torturing and holding a man hostage, they had a surprise in store for them. Word on the street was that the local drug kingpin, known only as "CJ," had sent his cronies over to the man's house to convince him to stop moving in on CJ's turf. But when the officers entered the home, it was empty -- not a drug-trafficking soul in sight.
"That's right, sir. The only evidence of torture we've found is an abnormally large Coldplay collection."
Then, in a scene straight out of a sitcom, the doorbell rang and a Domino's Pizza delivery man stood in the doorway, seemingly as the result of a mistaken address.
"Sure, take the pizza. Just, uh, don't check my pockets."
The cops knew a good opportunity when they saw one, offering to buy the pizza from the guy at a reduced rate. Everyone was happy -- the delivery man got a tip, the cops got a killer deal and, in celebration, proceeded to hold an all out pizza party. Problem was, it wasn't just pizza they were eating.
As it turns out, there had been three gangsters torturing a man just before the cops arrived -- three gangsters who had ordered a pizza.
This, seriously, is one of those gangsters, who looks like he could eat the shit out of some pizza.
The victim had escaped through a window when the gangsters weren't looking, which at least proves that the cops weren't the only ones dabbling in incompetence that day. The gangsters fled, presumably to either try and catch him or to vacate the premises before the authorities were called. The police arrived and were then followed by the delivery man; all of them presumably acting under the direction of a metaphysical improv comedy act.
Eventually, when the gangsters were apprehended and the pizza partying police officers were called in to testify, the lead prosecutor on the case was actually forced to utter the words "... it came to light that the officers had eaten the evidence," constituting perhaps the most shameful sentence ever spoken in investigative history.
"And we pay you people?"
Kay Fab of Vienna, Virginia pulled up one night to the sight of yellow crime scene tape wrapped around her home. Strewn about in the shadows were a severed arm, a foot and some kind of weapon. Looking to the house, she saw human forms hovering in the windows. When she noticed the dark figure of a man lurking in the back of the garage, she came to the reasonable conclusion that she should probably jump back in her car and drive to the nearest police station.
"Nope, nothing amiss h- hey, wait a second! That card had a "2" on it when I left!"
When she returned to the scene, police officer in tow, a man came running out of the house. All the lights clicked on, and a bunch of people screamed, "Surprise!"
In yet another example of faux-CSI fuckery, the night in question was Kay Fab's birthday, and Kay just so happened to be a CSI super fan. So her husband, Joe Fab, decided to throw her a CSI surprise party so terrifyingly realistic that it's amazing the cop didn't spray him with bullets when he came running out of the garage.
"Don't shoot! We have ice cream!"
But that was not the case. Kay and Joe Fab (who sound like a 90s pop duo recently reunited on VH1) apologized to the police for wasting their time, and promptly got down and partied hard all night. In the morning, Kay went straight to the police station with a huge box of donuts just to make amends, because if you want to apologize to the police, you give them donuts without an ounce of irony.