The Funny Torture Concept (TM)
The following scene takes place in the Business Start Up Office of the Royal Bank of Scotland.
Misssy is greeted by a young smart young woman in a dark grey trouser suit.
Bank lady: “Hello Misssy M. Now, how can I help you?”
Misssy: “Well, the reason I’ve asked for this appointment is because I have put together a Business Plan that I would like you to look over for me. Obviously with a view to lending me the start up capital.”
Bank Lady: “Oh yes, is that it there.” (Reaches for portfolio on desk)
Misssy: “Yes, I’ve taken the liberty of printing you a copy. As you’ll see from the front page it’s called the Funny Torture Concept.”
BL: “Yes?”
Misssy: “It’s a working title, I’ll come up with something a bit more zingy later.”
BL: “Okay, I’m intrigued Misssy M. If you could just break down the general idea for me..”
Misssy: “Okay, it’s a bespoke service for the person who has everything really. Have you heard of the Red Letter Day gift service?”
BL: “Yes, that’s the thing where you get once in a lifetime gift experience, isn’t it? It’s not one of those is it, because the market is pretty saturated. Personally I’d rather have gift vouchers”
Misssy: “I agree, there are too many of them. Who wants to go on a balloon ride, anyway? Mine’s different. It’s gifts for people you don’t like.”
BL: “Hmmm…interesting. Go on.”
Misssy: “Well, let me rephrase that. It’s gifts for people you actively want to torture. And it’s anonymous. The recipient doesn’t know they are being targeted and doesn’t link the incident with the gift bearer. But this is the best part. What we do is we video the results and send it to the gift bearer so that they can see the look on the faces of the recipient.”
BL: “Give me an example.”
Misssy: “Of course. Let’s look at Case Study Three on Page 5 of the portfolio. You want sweet revenge on the guy who dumped you, but you don’t want him to know that you’re that bothered by his letting you go. You could go with the old favourite of sowing grass seed on his carpet when he’s on holiday, watering the lot and cranking up his central heating.”
BL: “A revenge classic”
Misssy: “Yes. But with our service you get to see what a holy fuss he makes when he walks in the door to discover he has a living room lawn on his return. But we can also go that step further. Has he an allergy perhaps, does he have a phobia, a traumatic childhood memory? The list is endless. It’s bespoke, we can do anything. It’s that personal touch that is going to be our Unique Selling Point”
BL: “I see, but one thing is bothering me. Isn’t this, well… illegal?”
Misssy: “No, it’s anonymous, untraceable and non-violent. You could simply want a dog turd strategically placed on the front step of the home of an enemy. Where’s the harm?”
BL: “But what would be an example of something more severe? I mean you do mention torture….”
Misssy: “I’m glad you asked me that. We have a Gold Service that goes that extra mile. It costs more, but I feel there is a market. For example, we’ve an existing client who was sexually harassed by an ex-boss. She had to leave the company rather than be dragged through the courts.
Understandably, she didn’t want to let him away with it. We placed a honey trap in a bar he frequents. He went for it hook, line and sinker.
Initially, she went for the straightforward get-him-naked-handcuff-him-to-the-bed
-phone-his-missus package. But on reflection, she figured his poor wife should be spared what she probably already knew. Why torture the wife?”
BL: “Exactly.”
Misssy: “So she upgraded. Instead our operative handcuffed him naked to the outside railing of a Russian trawler. We’ve got a video of him being taken into custody in Vladivostok. He apparently had frostbite on his extremities… You may have also seen footage on Sky News. My client was delighted.”
BL: (Standing up) “Well, Misssy, I think I’ve heard enough. I’ll have my decision with you in writing by tomorrow.”
Misssy: (surprised) “Oh, don’t you want to know anymore?Figures… projections?”
BL: “Well, there’s just one more thing…”
Misssy: “Fire away”
BL: “Will you give me a discount?”
* For those of you who think I’ve lost my marbles please read this post. It’ll explain everything…
There is Nothing New Under the Sun
Here’s today’s pic- it’s me stuck under the Flying Martini pant mountainand has no relevance to this post whatsoever
This is a lovely thing. Click on it and have a look.
It’s a website that has a little three wheeled contraption that will generate a little three word idea.
It was sent to me by someone who obviously :
1. …thought the Misssives were needing a bit of help.
2. …thought the Misssives weren’t surreal enough
3. …thought it would be fun to see me sweat a bit
4. …is a bastard
This person challenged me to write a post on the first thing that came up. So thank you for that.
So what came up?
I quite like this already and will stew over it for the next wee while thinking of something suitable to write. Maybe something that involves Katie Melua. So take this post as a little herald/warning that in the next 24 hours there will be a Misssives post entitled, “The Funny Torture Concept”.
I’m not one for the meme, so I’m not going to go down that route, but if any of my regular readers or random visitors would like to join me in writing a post based on the first thing the random idea generator comes up with, then I’d love to know about it. The comment box, as always is your combined green room, frozen garret and therapy couch; let me know there.
And since I’m writing a meaningless little navel gazing post, can I also take this opportunity to wantonly whore the People Who Don’t Blog …But Should site.
About six eejits (including me) randomly post fake celeb blogs and they are usually screamingly funny*.
This week Kayessjakkay posted as Richard Madely, and one regular reader had to be rushed to hospital after spraining a lung from laughing so much.
There’s also a poll to allow readers to choose whose blog they’d most like to read next: this week our lovely contestants are former dictators. Personally I think it’s better than PopBitch, Go Fug Yourself and the Daily Telegraph all crammed together in an elevator.
Whoring over. For now.
*The People Who Don’t Blog…But Should team accept no responsibility for people who have yet to laugh or scream. It’s your own fault and there’s clearly something wrong with you.
