What would your father do if you were kidnapped by Parisian sex traffickers?

[MitzyLeFrouf]

I'm watching Liam Neeson in Taken as he kicks, wallops and murders his way across Paris in pursuit of his abducted daughter? It's made me wonder what my father would do if such a situation arose.

He's an ex-accountant with a dodgy hip so I'm not sure he'd follow the Neeson method of daughter retrieval. He'd be more likely to start the rescue by putting the kettle on, having a cup of tea and checking the weather forecast in Paris. Then he'd have to phone the 67 relatives to inform them of my perilous situation. By the time he got off the phone to my Auntie Mary my virtue would be long lost.

What would your dear old dad do?

My Dad would be angry and would phone the sex traffickers and tell them that it simply wasn't on, that was very bad form and would they very much mind releasing me. He would use his sternest voice. He would then start listing all the places his has stayed in France and telling them that it's not like it used to be now since all the 'you know' type of people can afford to travel. He would then go on to say something racist or sexist and then something else that was racist AND sexist. Then he would repeat a lot of the things he had already said but in an increasingly pompous way.

The kidnappers would then let me go rather than risk being subjected to any more of my Dads phone calls.

My dad would probably call the police.
DH fortunately speaks the language of the kidnappers

I may have muddled taken 1&2

My dad has a phobia about not sleeping in his own bed so any rescue missions would have to be launched as a series of day trips to Paris on the Eurostar as he also can't drive and is afraid of flying. He'd find this tiring and would need lots of extra lucozade in original flavour as this is a proven life saving elixir in times of fatigue and stress. He's is very shy so I doubt he'd be able to ask anyone for help and he is quite clumsy so would fall over if he tried to kick or wallop anyone. He would get a lot of cryptic crosswords completed during the journey back and forth to Paris though and tell me all about the clues he'd solved and why they were correct in a quietly pleased fashion if I ever managed to escape.

Frankly sumoweeble I worry for your chances of being rescued! Love the idea of several day trips rather than one dedicated mission. A good night's sleep is very important though

Mine probably wouldn't notice. I live next to France and he half heartedly comments on my facebook every once in a while. He might notice that I'd stopped posting on there, but only after a while, and he'd vaguely go "Oh, haven't heard from Bertie in a while".

Luckily I think my DH would assemble a squat team of angry Frenchwomen and go kick some trafficker butt for me.

My dear late dad would have been riven with anxiety and the vindication of being proved right as he had been expecting something like this to happen since I first caught the bus to town aged 14. If he made it to France to rescue me he would start by shouting at the French traffickers in English, then charming them with his real interest in people and enjoying a great red together.

My dad could be utterly charming yet frighteningly, violently sociopathic if he thought he was being thwarted, and he didn't believe that the rules applied to him. He also considered the females of the family his personal property. So while it was excruciating growing up with him and I lost count of the number of people he terrified/schmoozed into getting his own way, I don't doubt that he'd have done something completely batshit crazy to get us back had any of us been kidnapped. Whether we'd have wanted to be rescued is another question...

My father would do a lot of praying for my deliverance.

They might even arrange a special prayer meeting just for my predicament.

If I somehow managed to escape, that would be proof of the power of prayer. If I didn't, that would be because it was "God's will".

My DF is no longer with us but, after hearing why he got awarded a 'serious' medal in WW2, I think I might have been ok.

My Dad would start off working through the proper channels , but he is very tenacious and would get the help he needed after a few phone calls , mainly because people give up trying to say no to something they don't understand and give in for a quiet life .

My mother would have rounded up her sisters and rescued me , causing a massive diplomatic incident along the way as they offended their way across Paris .

Once rescued it would be decided that it was all my poor Dad's fault .

My dad would go to the pub and drink himself into oblivion whilst sobbing into his pint looking for sympathy. I have no contact with him.

My stepdad would take action and being a union man would probably start a strike whilst looking at the official paperwork of the kidnappers. He is also a morris dancer so would do all this with his bells on and waving a stick.

My brother is 'in security' and would kick ass compaining loudly all the while about why on earth the kidnappers would want me as a sex slave when japanese girls are much sexier.

Knowing my dad's knack for logic and joined-up thinking, he would probably call the fire brigade. In New York.

I've not seen the film, doesn't sound like a cheery subject, plus I have 2 DD's so would give me nightmares
My Dad would definitely beat up/kill people, he's a big softie with his children/GC but has been known to embrace his dodgy side at certain times.
(remembers holiday in Italy when we got threatened with a large bit of wood).

My DC's father would cry a bit, then get a load of people he knew to come with him to France and track whoever down, he would offer a lot of money in return for his girls, if they refused that he would cry a bit more, then shoot them.

I may be over-thinking this...

These are great. Conor

My dad also knows a few shady types who would help. I suspect his Pakistani friends would be useful as they have holiday home on border with Afghanistan so used to warfare.

He would go totally postal. There would be a protracted conversation with my mum about which car to take before losing his rag with her indecisiveness and taking the ford escort hatchback because there is plenty of room in the back "with the seats down" I doubt he'd taken any weaponry - he used to box a bit so it would be a gentlemans fight to the death. He would go the wrong way round the arc de triomphe and would possibly have punched a Frenchman before getting there. No food or drink, we'd stop off on the way back for a cooked breakfast- maybe on the ferry.

This thread is brilliant. I can recognise my Dad in so many of these posts.

My late dad would have prayed for me, phoned a few contacts at the Vatican and via his amazing connections Catholic-guilted the kidnappers into repenting their ways, releasing me and heading for confession.

My father would be astonished. So would I, to be honest.

My Dad would probably simultaneously feel sorry for the kidnappers (he has this idea in his head that because I have a black belt in karate I can take on anyone, anywhere and win ) and start making phone calls to Interpol or whatever (ex copper).

Then he'd ring my brothers, equip them with the array of dangerous knives that are displayed on his sitting-room wall, and dispatch them pronto to rescue their little sister.

Then he'd email everyone he knows with some funny kidnap pictures, complete with droll captions. Or possibly an email exhorting everyone to remember their blessings, having not been kidnapped ever. There might be a cutesey drawing of a little girl/criminal looking types being bashed over the head by righteous brothers.

Finally he'd stress over the shortbread biscuits he keeps just for my visits- would they go stale before I could have another one, should he put them in a Tupperware box etc.

Mine would have muttered about checking the European car insurance and the PITA of having to drive on the right. He'd call his ex-copper brother for advice then, as long as he was fuelled by crisps and cans of coke, he'd make it to Paris. Once there he'd get distracted by the cheese and baguettes for a bit before being reminded by my stepmum (who would have an excel spreadsheet of the rescue all planned out) why they were there in the first place.

However I'm sure he'd track me down and it would probably turn out he knew the kidnappers anyway, from school / the pub / petrol head circuit / through a friend of a friend, and I'd be released. Then they'd spend the next hour chatting about days gone by .

Once he'd established that it was genuine, my Dad would have quietly gone across and got me out. He'd done similar before and he never lost the basic skills.

The best thing is that he wouldn't have mentioned it again after the event - or if he did, he would refer only to something like the terrible meal we had at some roadside cafe on the return journey.

I miss him.

My Dad wouldn't know I'd been kidnapped for some time, as his phone is never switched on. When he finally turned it on and realised, he would retreat to the garage and spend a couple of days building a rescue contraption out of bits of old wood and wires. There would be an interlude at the point where he managed to fall off a ladder or saw through his own arm and had to go to A&E. Then the contraption wouldn't work anyway, so he'd give up and go inside to watch the rugby instead.

During this time, my mother would be going nuts because I hadn't replied to her many daily texts and would moan for days about how inconsiderate this was, and didn't I know she worried, etc. When it became clear I had been kidnapped, she would ring all her friends and complain loudly - 'You'll never guess what Roomba's gone and done now, it's awful. Why does she do this to me? Is it me? What have I ever done wrong to Roomba to deserve this?'... her friends would all make sympathetic noises and console her.

I'd probably have to fight my own way out, and would then be lectured for the next ten years about how awful it was that time I got myself kidnapped, Pauline's daughter would never have done that, she's a teacher now you know...

lol reading some of these really made me chuckle......love it, the bent coppers are the best!

My DF would probably ask how much it will cost him and if it is anywhere over £20, he would say he couldn't afford to go to Paris (he has lots of money but is a scrooge)

My dad would be shit in this type of situation. Plus he probably wouldn't even know about it ; we have sporadic contact. The first he'd hear about it would be when my mum would ring him up to tell him off for not caring that I'd been in danger (they are divorced but she tells him off a lot for various things on a regular basis and he tends to just take it. He likes being a martyr). Then he'd come and visit me with a half arsed "sorry I didn't do anything" and possibly some sweets for the kids.

DH on the other hand would be fab. He is very pally with a local biker group and would call them up and they would sort everything out. The only slight problem with DH is that he doesn't have a passport, but his mates would sort it out. His dad would be rubbish, too, so DH would have to save me, DD and his sister, depending on who's been Taken.

My Dad would start a campaign of terror albeit in a MoneySavingExpert 'no I'm not paying this parking ticket ransom' kind of way. But only when Coronation Street has finished.

He'd probably decide he needed to have a think about the best thing to do, while drinking coffee and messing in the greenhouse. Within a couple of hours he would have decided that mum was the best person to deal with it and leave it to her!

More of a thinker than a do-er, my dad!