Velvet Eyes


Dear Harry
It is without any regret or hesitation that I give you notice of my intention to leave your employment. For the last, painful, couple of months, it has taken a maximum effort to stop myself from vomiting into my mouth every time I have to listen to the verbal effluence running uncontrollably from your lips. Your words are like jets of steaming piss directed into my ears, which serve no other purpose than to fill my conscious thoughts with fantasies of wraping scat covered shovels round your hollow bonce. You are constantly shattering social boundaries in a way that would even make Gary Glitter wince. And the lack of effort you put into explaining your actions, only highlights further your obvious contempt for social etiquette. What I’m trying to say is, licking my coffee cup when alone in the kitchen does not qualify as a facial tick, just as a brainstorming session is no justification for shouting words like ‘Vagpipe’ or ‘Beef-slacks’, and certainly not if you are brainstorming alone in the toilet, with one hand down your pants. However, it was yesterday that you took your ability to make me wretch to a new level, when you claimed to possess the power to cure sick and wounded animals by transferring to them vital nutrients held within your semen, and that the stockings you dress them up in, simply aid blood circulation. If you only burn in hell, you should consider yourself very lucky.

Disrespectfully yours

P Coltrane


Dear Harry
Forgive me for not being there in person to tell you, but I will not be returning to work, as I am currently packing the back of a Renault Espace with large cocoons and old folk, in preparation for a return to my home planet. The timing is unfortunate, but we managed to harvest enough old people to sustain us for the long trip, quicker than expected. Therefore my party and I must head off now, as we can not take the risk that they could start dying or singing on us. Who would have believed so many Old Gimmers would have gone for the, “You have much to teach us” line. We’ve travelled across the universe in a spaceship we built, what do they think they’re going to teach us? How to suck eggs and piss our pants?
  I had considered asking you to join us, as there are many opportunities back home for someone with your abilities, from licking up spills in supermarkets, to renting out your anus. However, I don’t think you would survive the journey, as many of my companions are into ‘fat retard’ smoothies.
  As a parting gift, I took the liberty of scanning your body for genetic imperfections, as you bent over the photocopier, and have calculated the exact time of your demise. If at any point this information is of use to you, it’s on a post-it note in my draw, although I would look at it before Thursday.


P Coltrane





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