Monday, 5 March 2012

Letter from the Front

Send reinforcements, madness and delirium have broken out in the colonies, mayday mayday!

Spotted worker asleep at post.  Shot him before he woke; lessens the paperwork and the hassle of a courtmartial.  The cappucino option on the coffee machine is OOO (out of order), we need backup.  Every two minutes the siren goes off, people freeze in their seats, heads swivel to the offending blasts of C flat; a brave volunteer plucks up the courage and seizes the offending instrument before it  gives away our location: 'hello, pensions, Standard Life, Anne Marie speaking, how may we help you?' Another crisis... narrowly averted... thanks to the courageous efforst of our volunteers to come in every day and man the screens, operate the blasting gadgets and give up theri waking hours for the Glory that comes with being able to pay taxes and lodge legitimate complaints at the powers That Be in London over where our tax money goes.

Oh another blast has just gone off! Brave girl runs up from her position, quickly puts on the headset and smashes her finger down on the trigger... 'Good afternoon, Standard Life, can i help you?.... no he's not in right now, can i take a message?'

And why do these worthy souls do it?  Day after day, for a series of days in rows of 5 (occasionally 6 for the less inhibited), sane minded people with so many years ahead of them volunteer their daylight hours to man the machines. In return for what, you ask? Let me tell you! No these souls don’t waste time on the self-indulgent urges to duty, honour or dignity. They do it for a more worthy cause: MONEY. Yes my dear friend; we are the vanguard of the taxpaying wealthiest nation in Scotland.  We are crusaders of a new kind. We sacrifice all so that our wallets may bulge gratuitously, so that our livers may ache and groan with the sweet intake of alcopops every weekend night and our wardrobes will creak and heave with all the riff-raff of current fashions.

Yes! This is what we fight for! This is what we do on level 2; oh if only you were here too to smell the wonderful smell of plastic coffee, to watch the blasphemous blue skies hurtling above beyond the safe confines of glass and sandstone!  Oh if only our forefathers could see what we've now become!
How History wll remember us.

We must fight to preserve this way of life.  The office is quiet with the sweet chitter chatter of farm animals.  All is quiet on the western front. Sanity is restored.

I think iv (presently) typed all the insanity out.

No. 45321

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