The station was at Schaanwald in Liechtenstein, and rather than the Swiss Army waiting for them at the Customs Post just before the village itself, it was a group of four armed men on horseback, sabre-rattling while their leader waved a piece of very official-looking paper at them, then, when he had the attention of all the passengers, plus the entire crew of the train, he read in a fiery sort of voice: "we, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, are sent at the Command of The Creator, to Apprehend and Conduct one Grigor Haffinch to the Presence of The Creator to answer Serious Charges, viz. That he did represent himself as The Anti-Christ on Tuesday the 7th of March 1452 AD and conjoin with and support three Fallen Angels, to wit: Lucifer Lucianus, Basil Beelzebub and Nigel Gnome in their failed attempt to overthrow The Creator and set themselves up as a Ruling Troika over the Entirety of Creation. . . . ." but Grigor, who had appeared at a carriage doorway, yelled out: "it's a canard, a pack of lies, I don't know these people he's talking about, they're trying to frame me, poor, honest old Grigor, the Doorman, what use would I be to Angels? tell me that, you Windbag!" but the spokesman merely stood higher on his stirrups and in an icily steady voice, merely said: "this Warrant is issued summa rerum and in the interests of the Public Good, will be complied with immediately!" which was when all Hell broke loose – Grigor threw a saucepan he must have seized from the galley and it hit the spokesman on the head, knocking him out cold and sending him to the platform, then Grigor dived across the carriage and jumped out of the door on the other side, while the three horsemen still mounted seemed unsure as to whether they ought to attend to their unconscious leader, or chase after Grigor, which was when Pola Pinkus cried out: "you dirty, rotten swine, picking on poor, defenceless Grigor, well – you know what a koha is? a reciprocated gift, well you might not thank me for it, but here's what I'm giving you in return for frightening that poor old man!" and in rapid succession, three well aimed eggs hit the other riders on their faces and in sheer shock and probably disbelief, they too fell off their horses and with a roar of triumph, the entire company of Cabaret Voltaire, together with the train's crew and staff, were off the train and on them and in no time, they were all four trussed up like chickens in the Guard's Van, their horses set loose and the train moved off, picking up Grigor barely half a mile after passing through Schaanwald.