Accosted by a mime whilst entertaining the lady wife in a restaurant, our all-too-valid criticism of the pasty-faced nuisance (To whit: "Learn the words, you pasty-faced nuisance") fell on deaf ears in the face the gale in which he was struggling.
So, we took the only course of action available to us - that being to trap him in an invisible box before clubbing him senseless with invisible baseball bats. A gaggle of invisible Candian seal-clubbers were fortunately on hand to finish the job.
And not before time, either. He retreated to the next table, where he started juggling with an invisible kitten and two invisible chainsaws. The bastard.
Dear The International Criminal Court,
Mime artists. Nail them as well.
Your pal, etc