Found it: The Adventures of Rufus, the World's Worst Burglar.
Incidentally, Gabe's prediction came true - he was still living next door when we moved out almost six months later, and still pissing us off over the fence. One day, not long after the burglary, I cam home from uni on foot, not in the car (the tail-end of August 2001, my month from hell - a week or two after the burglary, while I was in the depths of the worst flu of my life, we crashed our car).
Because I walked into the yard, there was no noise to alert Rufus, who was happily chatting to his little bastard brother and throwing lollies* out of his bedroom window and into our yard. Apart from the the idiocy of wasting perfectly good confectionary, he was messing up our yard. I walked up quietly, gathered up the lollies, and threw them back over the fence. He made some smart-arse comment, and I walked off. Sure enough, he started throwing them again as soon as I turned my back. I turned, gathered them up again, and threw them as hard as I could, over the fence and through his open bedroom window. I heard them hit the far wall with quite a lot of force.
He then said something along the lines of "What's your problem?" and I replied that I didn't like thieveing little bastards throwing stuff into my yard. He claimed that he didn't burgle my house. I mentioned the chair against the fence. He said the thieves left it there when they ran across his yard. I asked why they didn't just go straight over the back fence. he didn't answer. I then asked why the stolen goods were in his bedroom. He didn't answer.
Twat.
* lollies = plural (singular lolly), small, individual pieces of confectionary. Would be called "candy" by Americans.
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