ZURICH. In a shocking departure from their usual routine of precision timekeeping and discreet banking, Switzerland has today delivered a stabbing spree that left three people injured and a nation quietly appalled at the breach of decorum. Police have arrested a suspect, though reports suggest he was apprehended with such polite efficiency that he probably apologised for the inconvenience.
The incident, which unfolded in the picturesque city of Schaffhausen, saw a man armed with a blade go on what the tabloids would call a 'rampage' but what the Swiss authorities have termed 'an uncharacteristically aggressive disagreement.' Witnesses described scenes of chaos, which in Swiss terms means someone raised their voice slightly and a bicycle was knocked over.
Three victims were rushed to hospital, where medical staff treated them with the same calm competence you'd expect from people who have perfected the art of not panicking while skiing down an avalanche. None of the injuries are believed to be life-threatening, which is a relief because the Swiss would hate to have to fill out paperwork for a fatality on a Tuesday.
The suspect, whose name has been withheld pending an investigation that will no doubt be as thorough as a cuckoo clock inspection, was taken into custody without incident. 'He was very cooperative,' said a police spokesman, adjusting his spectacles. 'He even asked if we wanted a receipt for the knife.'
This event marks a rare crack in the facade of Swiss serenity, a country where the most dangerous thing is usually a fondue pot left unattended. One can only imagine the whispered conversations in the chocolate shops today, the quiet clucking of tongues over perfectly brewed coffee. 'I say, this is rather more excitement than we've had since the Great Toblerone Shortage of '97.'
The attack has left the nation grappling with existential questions: Is nowhere safe? If the Swiss can turn on each other, what hope is there for the rest of us? And more importantly, will this affect the price of a good army knife?
For now, the streets of Schaffhausen are quiet again, save for the gentle hum of trams and the muffled sobs of a country coming to terms with the fact that even their violence is disappointingly civilised.
