George Clooney's crisis

George Clooney was on his way home from work and presently was just leaving Gregg's after purchasing a sausage roll and a chicken salad sandwhich. 'Wellllllll I've had a hard day, I'll treat myself,' was his logic, which couldn't be faulted really.
He HAD had a hard day.
So, he was pacing down Harrow Weald high street eagerly digging into his sandwich (he thought he'd save the sausage roll for last) when he noticed a commotion (see 'hub-bub', discuss in relation to 'disturbance') up ahead. Being the good useful soul that he was, George decided to inspect this further. He selflessly tucked his sandwich and sausage roll away into his pockets, even though he was fucking starving and he'd had a really hard day. He hoped it wasn't a medical emergency though, since it was ages since he'd been on E.R and performed his last operation. Yeah, turns out on E.R back in the day they didn't have much of a budget so all the operations were fucking real, they had to break into a real hospital and do them when the real doctorz weren't looking. George was responsible for many deaths but he didn't mind because he was getting a good amount of acting experience under his belt.
"What's the trouble here?" he asked in his creamy-yet-macho voice to back row of the throng of people. Seeing as such a voice simply couldn't be ignored at least ten people turned around to answer him.
"There's been a bit of a disturbance/hub-bub, this poor old lady here has had her bag stolen." one of them said, though he did seem incredibly nervous talking to such a handsome man and he stammered on every single fucking word but I couldn't be bothered to type it like that it would have taken ages. It literally took him about 10 minutes to say the entire thing, which only exacerbated the hub-bub because it made everybody really tetchy.
"Good God," George said, though he secretly hated himself for blaspheming, "Where did the culprit go?"
"That way," said a different person, thank fuck, "Heading towards Boxtree Park, the centre of all evil in the H.A postcode."
Though George didn't outwardly show it, the name of 'Boxtree Park' sent shivers down his spine. Matt Damon told him on the set of Ocean's Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen that he got his phone stolen there once. He had to start one of those Facebook groups about getting phone numbers back even though Facebook hadn't even started when I was in year 8 (I think that was when Ocean's Eleven came out, though that could have been Twelve) so he literally got no numbers back at all.
"I'll stop the thief!" George said, and as he did so his stomach grumbled really loudly which made everybody realise just how much he was putting himself out and they developed a newer, stronger sense of awe for him.
And so off he went, running faster than most movie stars, despite being fucking starving with a rapidly cooling sausage roll in his pocket and having had a bloody hard day.
He reached Boxtree Park, and saw a suspicious figure with a hood on (coz the Daily Mail say bad people wear them and they're always right aren't they?) sitting on a bench with an old woman's bag. 'Aha!' thought George, 'That's the guy!'.
So, he strolled over to him shaking his fist.
"Hey buddy! You'd better give that back!!" he bellowed. The figure looked up, startled, causing the hood to fall backwards. Nothing could prepare George for what he saw.
"Oh....Jesus God no...." he whimpered, "Tom Hanks!! You're a well-respected actor who usually plays loveable characters, except in 'Catch Me If You Can' when you were sort of prickly but still humanly endearing. HOW....COULD...YOU?"
"Oh fuck off George."