On New Ways Of Working
We have recently moved to an EXCELLENT new office.
The EXCELLENT new office is very, very excellent, and comes with New Ways Of Working.
In the usual circumstances, New Ways Of Working would be an easy target for quick laughs, if they weren't EXCELLENT as well.
For example, the EXCELLENT office comes with a large hole in the floor in which we can see our newsroom colleagues labouring below.
To stop us from falling through the hole, disturbing the work of our newsroom colleagues, thoughtful architects have provided a set of railings, which are constantly charged with 50,000 volts of electricity.
As yet, nobody has fallen through the hole, but we've had relatively few fatalities, which, in these days of tightening budgets, is no bad thing.
"What we need," said my excellent colleague 'Spikes' Walker, "is some sort of excellent method of attracting the attention of our colleagues downstairs."
I ventured to suggest the telephone, as we have been provided with one of these devices on each of our desks, such is the march of modern technology.
"How about a pea-shooter?" he asks, pointing out that a well-aimed dried pea to the back of the head would be sufficient to attract anybody's attention.
What little he knows. Back in the day, literally minutes of practice meant I was deadly with a pea-shooter.
On one memorable occasion, I knocked my brother off his bike from a distance of twenty yards, a crime that got me sent to my room ("And there'll think about what you've done" "EXCELLENT!") for a whole five minutes. I stretched it out to ten, just for dramatic effect.
Experiments involving pins pushed through the peas resulted in epic FAIL thanks to a tendency to suck instead of blow, and efforts to do the same with a lit banger were thwarted by a lack of volunteers.
Nevertheless, the well aimed, well-timed pea remains an asset that has stood the test of time. My father – Professor Scary – was a dab hand at the Old School Tie (now, sadly, converted to a Media Arts College), where absolute silence in the dining hall would be broken by the satisfying 'DING!' as a dried pea hit the trophy shelf. A skill that has been passed on from father to son to grandson – now using Captain Birdseye's best straight from the freezer.
Alas, this falls foul of the new rule that forbids bringing in foodstuffs that may annoy your colleagues, so golf balls and catapults it is, then.