No, not Dickie Bird, or any of the other almost celebs who don't live here.I am sending out a salute to a true local hero, the one, the only, Mr Kipling. He of "exceedingly good cakes" fame.
True, no one has actually seen Mr Kipling for many a year, but this could be something to do with how many lorry fulls of french fancies he has to make every single day. I picture him looking at the clock, 11pm... I'll just knock out a batch of apple pies then I'll go home. But then it's the next day, and there are more cakes to make.
As the factory is only 3 miles from my house I have tried asking workers leaving about the welfare of Mr. Kipling. No one was willing to give an actual opinion, with many telling me to sod off. Is he an elderly workaholic, or being held a prisoner against his will?
Suggestions on how to infiltrate the factory are welcome. I've already tried applying as a cake
2 comments:
Get a clipboard, white coat and say your "from the council" and you have to do some sort of inspection. Lets just say "delicious, sugary inspections" for example.
I like the way you think Squeakypony. Should there ever be a need for twisted evil to save the world, I'm going to nominate you.
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