I once found what amounted to a bailiff calling card in the street outside my basement flat. Since I was in dispute with various creditors over debt accrued during my time as an art student, I considered it likely that the toy sponge car was meant for me. Of course it could’ve been dropped by a child as much as it could’ve been received by a neighbour and hurled from the doorstep, but what struck me was the contrast of its simple innocence at a glance completely at odds with its intended message upon closer inspection.