Down in the kitchens, I was just about to stuff a turkey with a Terry's Chocolate Orange when the news came on the television. Normally I don't watch TV whilst cooking, but it does make a nice background noise. I froze in horror at the images being shown on screen ... all on live television, screened to millions across the nation! (*Turn your volume up*)
Just watch this news report:
Who'd have thought it? Belladonna, the fire-starter!
I am outraged that the BBC News mistakenly put a photograph of an elderly woman wearing a Burqa to represent me. My publicist would have sent them one of my glamour-modelling shots, but no they put up a picture of someone who is not even me. No doubt done on purpose! They shall be hearing from my lawyer!
Belladonna Bitchhole has brought my household into unforgivable and serious disrepute. I really must get rid of her now. Apparently, she's been released on police bail. I shall have to booby-trap the drive so she can't even get near the house...
Just watch this news report:
Who'd have thought it? Belladonna, the fire-starter!
I am outraged that the BBC News mistakenly put a photograph of an elderly woman wearing a Burqa to represent me. My publicist would have sent them one of my glamour-modelling shots, but no they put up a picture of someone who is not even me. No doubt done on purpose! They shall be hearing from my lawyer!
Belladonna Bitchhole has brought my household into unforgivable and serious disrepute. I really must get rid of her now. Apparently, she's been released on police bail. I shall have to booby-trap the drive so she can't even get near the house...
I am so sorry to hear about your shame Fanny. This just proves to you what kind of do-lally psycho bitch she really is. I had just made a passing remark about Carmen resembling Rosa Klebb when the dreadful news broke on the television. We both sat in silent contemplation for at least an hour, I removed my reading glasses, massaged the bridge of my nose, full of despair, that the people of Britain now thinks Fanny is some sort of raghead from the middle east, I'm so sorry. I went to bed. I do hope this hasn't caused you to much distress. Carmen isn't perfect, oh no, about 10 years ago she brought shame on the Flange household, she went foraging for wild mushrooms, after watching a gardening programme, she brought back a bag of mushrooms, fried them with a bit of bacon and ate them for breakfast, she went missing for five days. I checked all the hostels for indigent women. Nothing! Nada! Then one evening, I had just settled down to write out an advert for Country Life Magazine for a live in maid, when there was a knock at the door, it was the police and standing betwixt them was Carmen, she was in a dreadful state, her hair was all matted, her duffle coat was covered in thick mud so much so you couldn’t see her toggles. Near to where I live, there is a beautiful roundabout, covered in shrubs and flowers, there's even an ornamental rose garden with a pampas grass in it's centre, it looks gorgeous in the summer and it was on this roundabout that Carmen had been living rough, like a wild native of Borneo, she told me later that after eating the mushroom, she thought she had turned into a rabbit from Watership Down. It made the “ AND FINALLY…” bit at the end of the 10 o’clock news.
ReplyDeleteMy dearest Mitzi, I have been truly traumatised to read your tale of woe concerning Carmen, your maid of no work. As for her living rough, like "a wild native of Borneo", it is most disturbing how the dark underbelly reveals itself. It can be the ruination of an entire household for such matters to find themselves published in the local press or, worse still, appearing on the 10 o'clock news.
DeleteI always ask for a thorough psychiatric history of all my staff before employing them, although this safety measure naturally failed with my latest tête noire, Belladonna Bitchhole.
Have you tried adding some bromide to Carmen's tea, unbeknownst to her? This might quell her aberrant sexual urges, although it does cause foaming at the mouth as an unpleasant side-effect. One of my former maids, Gretel, swears by bromide. She writes lovely letters to me, written on lilac notepaper, stating how the addition of bromide to her afternoon cuppa saved her from a life of lesbianism. She left my employ many years ago and ran away to the delightful town of Corby where she is working as a panel-beater at the steelworks.