Death of Pie

[caddyman]

I have a slight headache. I never get headaches. I guess I’m a little more tired than I thought; I shall probably wander off around 5pm, get some fresh air and see if there’s anywhere around here who will sell me ceramic glue. In what I am told was a "freak" accident over the weekend, colonel_maxim contrived to break the lid to my TARDIS cookie jar. Luckily it is a clean break and can be repaired with a blob or two of glue and some elastic bands.

Back here at the office, every time I go into the coffee point (or the Mutia Escarpment as I shall now call it) to recharge my mug, I am reminded that I was lucky enough to have missed yesterday’s inevitably dour office party (4pm until late; how nice for it to fall outside core hours…). The reminder is in the form of two basins limned with aluminium foil, and filled with the mangled corpses of mince pies. Veritable sweetmeat plague pits they are. The coffee room is the fabled pastry graveyard, a glimpse of which has spurred on many a Victorian adventurer…

Thus is prompted the first use of the seasonal icon.

Comments

[littleonionz.livejournal.com]

Did you say The fabled Pastry Graveyard!?!...*dashes off in search of a pith helmet and butterfly net*