A Talking Desk 'n Haggis

Not at all what the alleged "Director" of British Finance Monitoring was expecting. 

He -- "Peter Marriot" -- thought to ambush me.  Then he met my "scam email editing" mode.

Nyuk.

He was trying to convince me that I'd been going about getting my hands of several million USD in the completely wrong way; but if I let him help me, I'd have my money in 3 days.

Or see it confiscated by the British Government.

So how did I thank "Mr. Peter Marriot" of Her Majesty's Finance Monitoring Unit?

See for yourself:

THE BRITISH FINANCE MONKEY BUSINESS UNIT
8th 'n 1/3 floor ellerman house,12-20 camomile street,
EC3A 7PC, United Kingdumb
LONDON, ENGLAND.
Email;   bftmonitor@live.com

 

 

From the Desk Of Mr. Peter Marriot.
A Dipshit Too Stupid To Do His Job, So His Desk Has To Do It For Him
British Finance Monkey Business Unit.
London, England.


Attention:
Yes, you read that right; I am Mr. Peter Marriot's desk.  The actual Peter Marriot is a moron, who sits in a corner of his office on his blackberry, drooling over animal porn videos on YouTube all day long.  They have to keep the bloomin' wanker wrapped in water proofs all day long.  Aye, 'e's a lost cause, 'e is. 

 

 

Anyway, his desk and you have some bloody business to discuss, so let's get cracking.

 

 

We have noticed that a huge sum of haggis has been sitting in your name for transfer and is currently rotting in our local international customs house, named for Bonny Prince Charlie of Cavenish 'n Chips.

 

 

As a desk, I am quite unable to fathom why you'd let perfectly disgusting haggis sit and rot like that.  Ruddy bad form, eh wot.

 

 

In Line with the Law of the Government of Great Britain that says nothing -- you have to bloody well look it up and read it, you bloody cock up -- spoiled haggis left sitting in a customs house shall be awarded to someone abjectly stupid enough to have no idea what spoiled haggis is.  

 

 

Prior  to the above, we request you to contact this office desk immediately within 3 days of this notice for further vacuous elucidation and pontification thereof and whereinbyas, so that further obfuscation and email confoundity is brought to play in so far as you are concerned. 

 

 

Bloody well didn't think a desk could sound so ruddy legalese, did you now? 

 

 

Be informed also that as soon as we receive your current data then we shall disseminate it to every bloomin' email scammer we know, so that you'll continue to receive this kinda shit until email goes the way of King Richard III, whose ruddy bones were just found under a bloody parking lot, eh wot. 

 

 

This desk is pretty sure that the pithy remains of the Sheriff of Nottinghead will be found underneath a 'loo in Piccadilly, once someone gets off their bloody arse and gets into lookin'. 

 

 

We plan to ship the rotting haggis -- the whacking great pile of it -- to Jack Botha and Sharon Brown, two bloody wogs in Johannesburg, South Africa.  You might bloody tell them to set up some kind of a containment facility.  We're shipping it to them at:  34 Plein Street, Rosebank, Johannesburg, South Africa 2000.  Email:  specialduties_09@yahoo.co.uk <specialduties_09@yahoo.co.uk>

 

 

We might forward some of it to that other bloody wog, Christ John, and his whacking great family oracle that looks like his mama's a**hole.   Email:  christjohn252@yahoo.co.uk

 

 

Yours Faithfully,
The desk of Mr. Peter  Marriot
who is currently drowning in drool in the corner of the office while his bloomin' blackberry sparks and shorts out...what a whacking great douchenozzle

British Finance Monkey Business Unit.

So far, no one's weighed in on the talking desk, spoiled haggis, butt-shaped family oracle OR shipping address.  Be a whacking great shame iffen no one does   ;-)