Customers of Smalltown’s Main Street newsagent, G.W. Hurling were shocked to be greeted by a firmly shut door this morning. A piece of paper stuck to the door announced that the shop was ‘CLOSED’.
SomersetClive spoke to a representative who told us “This is the first time we have had to close in our 475 year history of being the main newsagent in Smalltown. It’s regrettable, but due to an infection which has spread rapidly through our employees we do not have any staff available to open the premises.
Meanwhile , around the corner at Mistress Bones’ Tat and Newspaper Emporium, Squire Teflon and his close-friend Mistress Bones were observed deep in conversation, their heads bent closely together.
Your brave reporter crept closer to listen in and managed to overhear the Squire say “Well that worked well, didn’t it? I told you my idea of sprinkling the contents of that vial of Anthrax on the counter was genius. Now everyone will have to come here for their papers. Good job you had the foresight to order extra copies in case of such an event. I tell you my love, first Hurlings, next WH Smitz. World domination here we come!”
Mistress Bones looked deep into the Squire’s eyes and clapped her hands with glee “You’re so clever. How on earth do you dream up these schemes?” she simpered.
“I have a lot of experience. I’ll show you later.” the Squire replied, running his hands through her hair.
Feeling slightly nauseated your reporter quickly scurried away.