Tuesday, 19 October 2010

Biscuit Complaint No 7 Vol 14

To the manager of the St Angus highland shortbread company,

Dear Sir, i have been a lifelong admirer of your prowess in the world of biscuit making and my pallet has been given many years of pleasure by the goods i have purchased and consumed from your company.
This makes it at least twice as difficult for me to inform you of what i now have to inform you.
The other day i sat down in my arcmchair with a cup of tea and decided to have a nibble off the end of one of your shortbread buiscuits.
I took one bite and i must inform you that the quality of this particular biscuit fell well below par. In all honesty it was abysmall. Fucking discgraceful.
I don't mean to disparage your company Sir, nor your own well established name. As mentioned above i truely love your highland shortbread, that is  indeed why i had purchased some.
Yet i must impress upon you most heavily the anguish that this incident has caused me.
I get three quarters of an hour each day of the week in which to find some solitary bliss within the stresses and strains of the week. I like to spend this time indulging in tea drinking, paper reading and most importantly buiscuit eating.
If this routine is sullied it can throw my fragile life directly off course.
I don't mean to put the responsibility of my wellbeing upon your shoulders Sir, no, no, dear me no!
Yet you can understand how a lack-lustre biscuit could excite one to anger so! Please tell me you understand! All i wanted was a peaceful biscuit that tasted as good as a highland shortbread should, is that too much to ask?!
The incident vexed me so much that i went and quit my job. My wife still refuses to understnad my motives, i have tried to tell her that i cannot work unless i am one hundered percent calm and happy in my daily life  but she says i am merely being 'impish and slutty.' How to explain to her Sir?
She wouldn't even try the biscuit i proffered to her. I told her that one taste of it would prove to her that i am not merely being rash but that my actions are totally justified.
How can one find true peace in a world of imperfections? I kept asking myself this question whilst smoking a pipe and staring at  the crumbs of shortbread.
 Later that day i went into church. spat on a bible and renounced God. My wife left me and took the bongo drums. I am alone in this world.
I am not a complainer by nature Sir, please do not misunderstand me. I merely ask for a replacement  buiscuit, a formal letter of apology and most of all an answer... why? Why was this biscuit so below the standard normally set? Why do bad things happen to good people?
I am posting this letter on the 14-3-09 and i will be squatting under the postbox awaiting your reply.

Please good Sir, don't fail me.

Your sincerely,

Dr Scotty Madoc

To Dr Scotty Madoc,

I have recently read your latter dated the 14th of March and i am most upset to hear of your experiences. At St Angus Shortbread LTD we try our best to insure that our customers enjoy our product and indeed we try our best to ensure that our buiscuits always come up to scratch.
I am sorry that in your instance this was not the case. I enclose a voucher for a free tin of Highland Shortbread with your next purchase.

Please accept my sincerest apology.

Yours humbly,

Marcus Newton.

Dear Mr Newton, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!!! I'm sorry, this simply will not do! How dare you, how-dare-you! try to fob me off with some poxy voucher!
I have dedicated several pounds off my paycheck each month to saving endangered tigers in africa for the last five years...andd for what? To be told by some jumped up little semi-transvestite that he's 'upset to hear of your experiences.' ???? This is war Sir! I have personnaly torn your letter to shreds and inserted it
up a slugs anus.
You think that just because you bake highland shortbread that your better then me hummm? You  think that you can simply ride ruffshod over the common hard working abbatoir inspector? Well i will track you down Sir, i will torture you psychologically until you  lose the control of your bladder and believe
yourself to be a gnome in some far away land.
You mark my words, this is not over!

I have decided to channel my anger over this issue into a poem, i hope it suitably shames you:

I took a bite and then i paused to find
a texture that would drive me out my mind.
this foul and rancidd buiscuit, o it seems
to taunt my gut and terrorise my dreams!

Sweet feling, i have lost the will to smile
and all my dreams lay shattered in a pile
of sweage that is seeping through the cracks
of my hear. I start on the attack.

How long shall cretins rampage through our lives?
Until a strong and noble man aspires
to bring the virtue back into this world,
to flush out all corruption is my goal.

so hear me now thou brooding nest of turds
i shall revenge myself, let it be heard
from every rooftop, i demand respect
and maybe now and then a simple buiscuit.

the bell has tolled for thee, lay down thy arms
i come with justice, you cannot cause me harm!
i'll bring the wrath of millions to your door,
O highland shortbread, tho art an evil whore!

Please excuse some of the shoddy pentameters and near rhymes. I was whipping myself with a belt as i wrote it and that might have offset my rhythems.

Yours forewarnedly,

Dr Scotty Madoc.

To Dr Scotty Madoc,

I was suprised and alarmed by your latest letter as i had hoped that this issue had been sorted out to both our satisfactions. I see that it has not.
I was trying to put your mind at ease but i suppose you finally rumbled me. Do you remember twenty five years ago, at Bishopston School during assembly one grey novemeber morning? You gave a wedgy to a small child sitting in front of you? A child who becasue of his superlative knowledge of chess and the fact that he
ate hummouse for lunch was penalised by the school system and becasue the subject of bully's taunts for the entirre five years of school? That child was me Dr Madoc!
That child was me! I tracked you down seven years ago. I was plotting my revenge. I knew i had to be slow and crafty in order to gain the extreme revenge i sought.
I analysed your personality, i observed your every movemetn. I noted your love of highland shortbread and the insistence you placed upon quality buiscuits.
I started up my own highland buiscuit company and soon became the leading buiscuit maker in my field. I made sure you saw our advertisement and purchased our product and then... after years of waiting and plotting i struck the deadly blow. I baked a shortbread that fell significantely under our standards and personally wrapped it in a package and placed it in your local supermarket.
There i waited behind the shelves making sure only you selected that packet and then i followed you
home and watched as you bit into the 'poison apple of perpetual torture.'
How does it feel Dr Madoc to be the subject of a cruel and torturous prank?!
How does it  feeeeel?!!! Finally i am free! Finally my poor soul can have some rest! Ah, ha ,ha ,ha, ha!!!!!!!!

Yours sincerely,

Marcus Newton

Dear Mr Newton,

Gosh, how are you doing old boy? Long time no see. Do you remember the day i emtied my bladder over your head? Ha, ha! What merry larks we had in those days!
Do you still have that birthmark on your left buttock shaped like a vomiting leper?

Give my love to the family,

Dr Scotty Madoc

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