I did notice, however, something which left me rather confused and concerned. It was only upon further investigation that I discovered I had been robbed. Yes, in my first week in the office, I was the victim of theft. Some creeping, sly, little sod snuck in and stole an apostrophe and the letter ‘s’ from my first column. Clearly a case for the EMPD. Wait, this is too big – I need SWAT, with the FBI and the CIA.
So I scrabbled around in the semi-light of my office, shoving aside a half-eaten chicken and some old Russians (the sausage, not the people) and found my laptop. I then began banging out a request to my old buddies across the Atlantic for help. I needed some shock and awe tactics here.
I figured I would throw in some women (or woman?) as I have heard they have a keen eye for details. So, with my investigative team complete, I began digging around – after my mid-morning nap of course – for my missing alphabetical parts. I quickly discovered it was a midget muppet who had squeezed himself between the bars of my cage and had made off with the aforementioned apostrophe and letter. But why? With my ample gut slowing my movements, I shuffled over to my boss and begged for some time off to hunt this miscreant down, so that he may face they full fury of the law.
And you know what? I am still looking for the little muppet, but my contacts in the CIA claim to be getting closer to discovering his whereabouts. But rest assured dear readers, we shall not stand for such things. Justice shall be served.
So why have I written this long tale, regaling you with this week’s endeavours? Well, I don’t really have anything better to do than to search for one or two missing letters. And apparently it is written somewhere, just under the Ten Commandments, that this is part of my job.
Which brings me to the next point – job descriptions. Difficult things, job descriptions. At some point, at some time, we all have a moment where we perform less than 100 percent. In my case, my boss beats me when I don’t, but for many of you, it is accepted as a matter of course to have an error or two during your day. Sometimes that error is so small as to be seemingly insignificant. I mean, take the midget muppet who stole my letter and apostrophe – am I not making much ado about nothing? Or shall I have to wait until the twelfth night to realise the error of my ways? Perhaps I should spend some quiet time reading Plato, Aristotle and Socrates (again) to discover a higher calling to life. Or should I simply give the midget muppet the finger and tell him veni, veci, vici. I will let you, my readers, translate.
