Perfect Retirement Housing Complex
CORSETTSHIRE QY4 2PN
My Dear Ralph
Thank you for your latest communique. Pom-Pom and I are a little confused. Did you mean a job with the local government dear? Things certainly aren't run as they were in my own era. Still, it does sound like you may have found an exciting position in the neighbourhood Vice office. I hope you will remember to keep on taking your tablets as it will certainly be desirable to confine your physical activities to the keyboard and paper. (They will expect that remember pet.) Good luck today anyway. Pom-Pom and I will be thinking of you beavering away on the database and making permitted phone calls. Perhaps, once your probationary period is over, they will let you out to make a higher contribution on the streets? Keep us informed!
Pom-Pom and I have been feeling slightly down in the mouth this morning. We were reflecting on Pom-Pom's unfortunate spree on the horses and our resultant admission into the Perfect Retirement Housing Complex! We have tried to join in with the spirit of the things here, but have come to the conclusion that Coffee Morning, in with the natives, is altogether too ghastly. They do that thing with the obligatory raffle tickets and edible prizes on wheels. I myself do not much care for choccie biscuits and peaches in a tin. I also rather feel that Our Leader does not much appreciate my penetrating insights into the lack of glass in the greenhouse and the resultant stiff breeze blowing through!
Meanwhile, there was somewhat of a cataclysm in the passageway outside Pom-Pom's door this morning. Bellowing through the walls came the voice of Sock-it-to-Em, who was expounding on Snake in the Grass' alleged propensity for nicking everyone's milk money (not to say entire bottles) from the alcoves outside. She is quite right, of course. Pom-Pom and I have often discussed the possibility of acquiring a car battery and wiring it to the foil bottle tops in the hopes of zapping the culprit with quite a quantity of Megajoules. Imagine the fantastic sound of crackling hair and the aroma of blackened toast wafting along the hallways!
We did happen to open the door to survey the scene and there was Our Deputy also lined up against the wall. Unfortunately, nothing effective is ever done to capture these offences - and the offender - on tape. Indeed, the impression tends to be given that us inmates are so ga-ga, and such unreliable sources of information, that absolutely nothing needs to be done about the security issues that we raise. And this, pet, is quite wrong! What we need here in Perfect are surveillance cameras!