First Class Excuse

A post room adventure
The post ladies gathered like brooding witches within their letter clad chamber as they waited for the morning post to arrive. Time was already pressing on and Beryl, the smallest of the post ladies, flicked through a ream of self adhesive stamps as she waited, cracking her knuckles after every complete flick. Behind her stood Curly, so called for her extraordinary curly hair, who held a leg of lamb and was ripping off raw chunks of meat with her teeth without regard to avoidance of gristle. Meaty chunks were consumed with fervour. The delivery driver was 5 minutes late and they'd make him pay.

At 10:05 the door bell signalled an arrival and beyond the door stood a slender chap with mid spine length ginger hair. His grey cardigan glistened in the harsh lights as he waited for the post room door to open. Curly opened the door which creaked as the stranger came in to focus.

"Are you the post man?" Curly enquired

"No, I'm The Grey Cardigan and I wish to buy a stamp" The Grey Cardigan announced.

As he made his way in to the post room the door slammed shut behind him. Perhaps he wouldn't be seen for the next twenty five years. Few could imagine what a bizarre world The Grey Cardigan had entered and in a very short time he would regret making his request for a first class stamp.

What follows is The Grey Cardigan's personal account of his time in captivity with the post room ladies, the torture, the ridicule and the self adhesive stamps. If you are of a weak nature, then look away now. If you are normal, then stop reading and maybe plan to read these opening lines when you're older and wiser. If you're working in an office and have nothing better to do then read on.

"I knew I was in danger as soon as the door slammed shut behind me. The fact that I was quickly wrestled to the ground by Curly and Beryl and within 45 seconds found myself gagged and tied within a post sack only added to my concerns. Dazed, confused and disorientated I was bundled into the back of a van and driven to an unknown location. A location so unknown that not even those who knew the location were sure of whether they really knew it or just thought they knew it. As I heard the van halt, the doors opened and I was dragged out of the van, my legs frantically kicking in an inept attempt to free myself from the post bag.

Thud! Whack!

I had been knocked out cold by a blow to the head and was not to come round again until mid day.

Mid day arrived and I found myself sitting on a chair in the middle of a disused sorting office. I was cold, mainly due to the fact that I had been stripped of all but my distinctive grey cardigan and grey y fronts. A fan had been placed to blow a draught of cold air up my left thigh. They had forgotten to tie me up, so I put my clothes on and went home to recover. That's why I was late to work today".