Bill Murray takes a selfie at the Laureus World Sports Awards in Shanghai. Photo: Yang Hui/GT

This week, the Laureus Sports Awards were held in the city, honoring the great and the good of the past year in competitive physical activity. More importantly, however, the organizers managed to get hold of the famously elusive Bill Murray, star of comedy classics like Ghostbusters, Groundhog Day and Garfield, to present an award at the ceremony.

Murray is known for popping up in places, seemingly at random, doing something impromptu to the amazement of bystanders, and then disappearing. The Internet is awash with stories of Murray crashing house parties only to be found washing dishes, stealing fries in restaurants, making impromptu speeches at bachelors' parties and serving drinks at bars.

With news that Bill was in town, the Global Times took to the streets and asked expats what their fantasy Bill Murray encounter in Shanghai would be like.

Adrian Montague, training manager, the UK

I wake up in Shanghai to find a slime-covered envelope in my mailbox. Inside there is a letter from Slimer saying Bill Murray wants to meet me in the Shanghai Tower for lunch. At lunch, I walk in to find Bill Murray in a Ghostbusters outfit. He says he saw me around Shanghai and thought that, while he had some free time before the Laureus Sports Awards, that he'd meet with me as he thought I'd make a great addition to the North Asia Ghostbusters team. We discuss who else should be involved. I suggest Maggie Q, for obvious reasons. Bill Murray, being the charmer that he is, says that it is already a done deal and she was top of his list also. Following more revelations that show how similarly we think, I accept the role, starting on Monday morning for induction training with Bill. After lunch, I leave with a freshly-pressed Ghostbusters outfit with my name embossed on it.

Audrey Murray, writer, the US

Oh my god! Bill Murray and I are making out in the back of a taxi. I pull back and trace my fingers down the side of his face. "You know," I say, "when people find out my last name, they always ask if you're my dad."

"Wouldn't they expect my kid to have a lot more money and success?" he asks.

"Stop talking," I say, running my hands through his hair. "Not many people understand what it's like to have the last name 'Murray'."

"Actually," he says, "a lot do."

We're back to making out, and in between kisses, he asks me where I'm taking him. "The Carl's Jr. on Wujiang Pleasure Street," I tell him.

"Pleasure Street?" he asks.

"It turns out it's the Wujiang Pedestrian Street," I say. "But I've been mistakenly calling it the pleasure street for years, and I'm not about to stop now."

"Why are you taking me there?" he asks.

"Because the soda fountain is upstairs, so you can get free refills, and the employees there tend to be less judgy about it than the other two Carl's Jr. locations," I reply.

"You're so practical," he says. "I want to whisk you away to Paris for a whirlwind weekend of romance."

"Actually," I say, "if you've got a passport and a good supply of toilet paper, I know something even better: a housing development outside of Hangzhou that's a fake recreation of Paris. They even have a rusty Eiffel Tower, under which enterprising residents have illegally erected a small farm."

He looks into my eyes. "I'm afraid you're colorblind."

We ride off into the distance, bumper-to-bumper traffic lining the highway to the railway station.

Misha Kalhin, project manager, Belarus

I walk into Family Mart to the typical door music and pick up a bottle of jingjiu (a traditional Chinese medicine wine), my second one of the night, and a triangle of rice wrapped in seaweed with tuna filling. The cash register is unattended. Didn't they hear the annoying jingle? I look around; the store is empty. I wait for a few minutes. Then, getting impatient, I look behind the counter into the back room. There they are: limbs tangled, producing loud kissing noises, green apron all twisted. Bill Murray with the Family Mart lady. I give the man a scornful look. He's wearing a black track suit, a cowboy hat and a pair of white Feiyues. The woman adjusts her apron. Bill's eyes peer through his mushy, wrinkled mug, his mouth cringes in a cynical smile. His sagging lips move: "No one will ever believe you." I get it, old man, you're very elusive, I think, pointing at a pack of cigarettes on the wall. Bill sneaks out behind me. The Family Mart woman looks outside with a gleeful smile. "Eights or tens?" she asks. "Tens, please." I take the box. She watches the whiteness of his shoes disappear into the darkness.

Jacky Slater, teacher, the UK

I would be waiting in line at the Bund Sightseeing Tunnel. I'd push my way into one of the small crowded cars, and wait for the ride to start. About halfway through, perhaps at the bit with the magma, the lights would go out, the car would stop, and everything would go silent. I'd feel a tap on my shoulder, and spin around in fright, only for the lights to leap back on and for me to find myself face to face with Bill Murray. Everyone else would have disappeared. He'd pull out a bottle of tequila, a pack of salt, and some lemons. We'd then proceed to get smashed, and have an adventure in the tunnels beneath the Huangpu River.

Audrey Weilai Fieser, creative director, the US

I'm sitting on a terrace, sipping an old fashioned, while writing. My collie is stretched under the wooden table, hiding from the blazing sun.

When I look up, I spot a big chap at the next table. The way he's dressed is unmistakably American, wrinkled Hawaiian shirt, cut shorts, and hiking sandals. What catches my attention is the rainbow-colored umbrella hat and messy hair like he doesn't give a flying toss about the rest of the world, as if he's a kid. A big kid.

I watch him gulping down his drink, whisky on the rocks. Suddenly I realize he's Bill Murray!

He sees me staring, raises his whisky glass and nods. I do the same. I finally work up the courage to walk over.

"I'm going for a walk, would you like to join me?" I ask.

Bill scratches my dog's chin. "What's his name?"

"Casanova," I answer. Bill laughs.

We wonder aimlessly around the small streets of Jing'an and the former French concession, people watching. Soaking in the weird and wonderful human behavior of foreigners and locals. Without many words, we just look at each other and laugh the afternoon away.