Peter Sozzle,

Somewhere near Threshers.

The Right Hon Gordon Brown MP,
10 Downing Street,

Dear Prime Minister,

It has come to attention that you are about to allow a great and well respected British institution fall into administration and this one institution provides a life saving service to large chunks of the population which is more important than the Police, Fire and Ambulance services put together.

I am of course talking about Threshers.

Since losing my driving licence unfairly due to Police prejudice ( just for running over a Doctor at the scene of a nine car pileup that I caused, whilst trying to drive away from my shop-lifting crime scene under the influence of a bottle of vodka) , I am unable to drive to the supermarket to buy my much needed Smirnoff and Special Brews that according to Tim Pisstwhistle, who hasn't been sober for 10 years, keeps me alive.

I am very frightened of dying and I have also been banned from using public transport  and taxis (since I threw up over a baby in a pram and urinated over a person of a foreign  ethnic background who's color was a shade darker than my own which I reminded him of throughout the journey) unfairly due to the prejudice of public transport conductors because I was born in Bristol. Tim is certain that this is the source of prejudice against me and seeing as he is the most sane person I know, his judgment must be taken into consideration. If you don't believe me you can reach Tim at his usual address.

The Toilet, Grimshaw, England.

Please Gordon will you bail out Threshers which is within stumbling distance from my Squat. I only want this one to be bailed out because I can't stumble to the others because Tim has told me that there are Zombies everywhere outside of Grimshaw and I have no reason to doubt him seeing as he is of sound mind and body.

I await your reply in soiled trousers.

Peter Sozzle.

P.S. can you lend us a tenner? you know I'm good for it.

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