Hatchet Job

It's not often one has the opportunity to witness a youth in a tracksuit, wielding an enormous rusty meat cleaver, running down the street shouting 'I'm not gonna f*cking put up with this any f*cking longer', but that was the delightful vision that confronted the Eastcliff mincers today as I toddled down the road for my afternoon snifter.

Yes, I did think of ringing the rozzers, but on balance I decided they probably had more important things on their plates. Such as a vital pensions meeting, or a presentation on health and safety most like.