A wallet

I picked up those three lads on Oxford Street. They wanted to go to a kebab-house, that was just around the corner. The boys, in their early twenties, were really enjoing themselves. One of them suddenly stood up and exposed himself, freely waving his willey. All the ladies around were delighted. Everybody on the street went nuts cheering and screaming in approval. We kept traveling in style and soon we got to the food store. Lads carrying on with their horseplay pushed the half-naked one off the rickshaw. Having his legs hobbled by his put down pants he fell on the floor like a cadaver from an open wardrobe. His friends howling like a monkeys quickly jumped on top of him. All three of them were billowing on the floor screaming, laughing and cursing. This instant a guy who was just passing by joined them rapidly. It looked like he just liked it and wanted to play with them too. The whole action took no more than a blink of an eye. The starnger stood up and was gone immediately. One by one the young nutters were getting up too. The one who exposed himself earlier pulled his trousers up and suddenly realised that his wallet was gone. The pickpoket was fast. There was no trace of him already.