Death by T****

Recently, everyone at my branch of T**** was asked to reapply for their jobs. The bosses told us that they needed to ‘tighten their belts’ and that everyone at the firm had to ‘pull their weight’. I was concerned. Had the recession got so bad that the managers would have to fund their trips to Thai brothels out of their own pockets? Would they have to pay for their own cocaine? It certainly looked that way. I was prepared to help them in any way I could. So I sat down with pen and paper and endeavoured to give a fair assessment of my abilities that would help the bosses to decide whether I was a ‘weight-puller’ or a ‘dead weight’. Here is the gist of my application:

Dear Sir/Madam,

I would like to apply for my job. I am interested in exploring new opportunities and developing my skills, and I feel my job would provide me with an excellent opportunity to explore these new opportunities. This however is academic and semantic. And while ever I am sitting here growing florid, you, I and everyone else is losing money. So let me cut to the chase. I know you value plain speaking. So here is why you should give me my job:

1) I have played Macbeth off Broadway

2) I can kill a man by staring at his dog

3) I have never put my genitals on any of the bread products

4) I know what you done to Benny that time in the meat room

5) I am the strongest person in my family

6) I can rap

7) I have a massive penis

8) I will die if you fire me

9) I really will die. Horribly. And it will be your fault.

10) God is watching you

11) He told me.

12) I can work by myself or as part of a team.

13) I am punctual (on my mother’s side)

Best wishes,

John Le Baptiste

Post-script: not only did the CEO of T**** refuse to continue my employment, he also hunted me down and beat me to death with his gruesome lecherous fists. I was gobsmacked. What do you have to do to impress these people?

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3 Responses to “Death by T****”

  1. oldrope Says:

    Tiresome oaf. Must you always be ignorant of the talk of the town? It is common knowledge that number 3 is a barefaced lie. Why do you think sales of current buns and custard donuts have dropped. Apart from aging divorcee Ms Rubberbucket, who gives you a sly wink when she buys a bag of pecan plaits, inisting on running her tongue along it’s sticky lattice as sugar clings to her crudely rouged lips and a thin layer of sucre glistens on her womanly tache.

  2. jlebaptiste Says:

    Listen buster, I got the all-clear after they did a crumb test on little Le Baptiste. And what me and Ms Rubberbucket do with pecan plaits is no-one’s business except mine, hers and the Bury UKIP S&M swingers club’s.

  3. oldrope Says:

    Just steer clear of the deli counter lad, that’s my hunting ground

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