Johnny
Prescott and the strange case of the magic laundry machine
Last week my dear friend and regular quaffing
partner Johnny (“give me the chocolate and nobody gets hurt”) Prescott and
direct mail guru Billy “The Dog” McGraw gathered with me at the Toppled Bollard
to ponder the latest bizarre twist in Johnny’s personal life.
Billy
and I had noticed that Johnny had recently abandoned his traditional
pre-industrial shop steward style of clothing and moved over to ill-fitting
post-modern chic. We asked why.
Johnny
explained that for years he had been in possession of a unique clothing renewal
system. “Every night I would drop my
clothes from the day on the floor in a pile at the foot of the bed. Three days
later they would turn up, neatly ironed and folded. It was perfect.
“But then one month ago the whole system
failed. I’ve checked the carpet. I even tried changing the place I drop the
clothes, but that had no effect. It’s a
mystery.”
We asked what Johnny had done. He explained, “Until now I’ve only ever been
in the bedroom and the kitchen chez moi but I discovered a small room
equipped with a whole range of machinery the likes of which I have never seen
before. Near the machines was a plastic
contraption, which my aides have informed me goes under the bizarre name of
‘laundry basket’. However it was empty
and seemed to have no discernable function.
So still no solution.”
“And does the lady wife have any thoughts on
this odd situation?” I asked.
“Sadly no,” said Johnny, looking sad. “You see she left me about a month ago – just
about the time the clothes cleaning system broke down in fact.”
“Why did she leave?” asked Billy with more than
his usual aplomb.
“Met a young fellow at her Salsa class who
apparently gets his clothing at Gap.
Don’t know why that is important, but she mentioned it as she left. Anyway I sent out my aides to investigate
(it appears to be some sort of shop), and I’ve got a couple of the lads
starting Salsa next week – just in case there is some connection with the
laundry basket.”
Billy and I found it hard to comment. Johnny shouted for a fresh round of drinks
and 15 packets of crisps. We drank and
ate in silence, contemplating the future of the kingdom.
Tony Attwood
PS:
Contrary to popular belief my colleagues and I do not spend all day at
the Toppled Bollard debating the finer points of laundry with our political
masters. We also spend time creating
sales letters, supplying mailing lists, undertaking mailings and working continuously
to give our customers ever higher response rates to their direct mail. If you want to know more, please phone 01536
399000. No horseman will call.