Your conduct has been rancorous. I think it was one of your bus. At least it may well have been your bus.

If I could stop time, I’d pause that moment when mother gingerly kissed my 6 year old scalp before setting me onto one of your busses. Suspecting pox she decided to perform an emergency quarantine evacuation by providing me with one of your ‘explorer tickets’ and putting me on a bus at Cricket St. Thomas and telling me to enjoy myself and only alight from the bus when I felt well again in a week or so. That kiss was the only warm human contact I experienced that year – which is colloquially referred to as “1985”.

Mother encouraged me to occupy myself with activities upon your bus, and it was decided by her vote that I collect mini-beasts that could be captured, categorised and counted and then sold. She had packed a small cricket bat and a bottle of whisky to facilitate this quest, and my pursuit of this endeavour caused my first distress. I searched high and low, on both decks, and found zero mini-beasts. Setting my sights a little higher I moved onto larger prey and attacked several small dogs which had sequestered themselves beneath one of the chairs (I fancied they avoided my eye). Emboldened by liquor and waxed-up into a fearless frenzy I set about my quarry which I managed to capture beneath my cricket bat (“my ally”) and mounted them onto a decorative pile at the back of the bus, only to discover that the fellow passengers were a miserable crowd who could only hoot, jeer and summon constables with whistles. They did not, it seems, appreciate my huntsmanship. By the age of 5 I was no stranger to sexual-violence; at 4 ½ I had been tripped over by one of the boys from the ‘big class’; this same boy asked me a coarse question about girls two weeks later. This experience came in handy when attempting to secure myself a partner for the tour. Once acquired (by fair means or by foul) my new ally ‘Samson’ proved extremely faithful and docile in helping me to assuage the bus conductor, with whom I had many acrimonious skirmishes on that long drive. The push and pull of our relationship afforded something of a stable backdrop to the otherwise chaotic experience aboard that bus. After he had started one particularly torrid debate (by refusing to let me share his can of lilt) he turned his attentions to Samson and immediately neglected to offer him a crisp. We bore the many injustices inflicted upon us by this brute as best we could but when he finally ventured upon insult we were obliged to correct him. A gentleman must learn his lessons. I will never forget that horrific cry issued forth by Samson, seizing the opportunity to discipline this varmint, of, “Release the mini-beasts.” After realising that none save he knew what the devil he was talking about he took action himself and released the mini-beasts, now totalling two Chihuahuas (hairless) and a grey Poodle. The beasts immediately ran to the back of the bus, cowered under the chair and yapped wildly. Although the fracas lasted only briefly until some passenger threw them toffees, our enemy’s face almost imperceptibly turned sour. Thus we felt our first triumph.
However, the reason for this complaint is simply to complain about the bus prices that you currently quote. For example, according to your “Price List” (often mis-labelled “Bus Timetable”) a single journey from Bish Vegas to Spenny costs 0810, a price which rises incrementally to 0910, 1010, 1110, etc. The best seats in the house appear to cost 2200 !!! These prices are found to be wildly excessive by the Tavistock Society. Ever since the treasurer was jailed (in his own moral prison) for being caught with his fingers in the fridge, we cannot read his handwriting, and therefore our balance sheet is rendered meaningless. We are currently raising funds by sponsored events in order to get home this evening. Please will you sponsor us, or else lower your prices. Our form is included below.

Tavistock Society Sponsored Sit Edit

The Society will be holding a sponsored sit on the floor at the bus station this evening. We will probably sit for an hour and sing sea-shanties and drink tea and eat crisps. In order to keep our spirits high please sponsor us a lot of money, or else if you are feeling very generous, give us a lift home.