Day 1 in The My Small Stockroom.
Alex has returned from the local Sainsbury, sadly lacking in the lashings and lashings of toilet roll he was sent to acquire. The gang are very much regretting not panic buying along with everyone else, and anxiously gaze at their diminishing ration of Aloe Vera Andrex. It’s a square a day for the forseable future.
Apparently, so Alex now reports, Mr Sainsbury’s Local has also been stripped bare of Terry’s Chocolate Orange. The situation is dire.
Having spent many years playing in the shop, the new environment of the stockroom for an 8 hour day will take some thorough adjusting, but Romilly has come up with an excellent plan. The only way to cope will be hosting regular picnics on Aunt Fanny’s rug, and inviting Moulin Roty’s Les Parisienne Dolls for an outing. We practice pretending we are breathing in fresh valley air. Obviously, we’ve only got wooden play food, but, as Boris Johnson said about the government’s Covid 19 response….Pretend Play is everything.
Lionel Bear the Shop Dog is a little aggrieved by his rather busier workplace environment. He is especially miffed by the lack of treats, which don’t appear to have increased in
proportion to the number of people dealing with phones and orders. Not to mention that his preferred snoozing spot, under the desk, is now taken up almost all the time. ‘What’s the fuss about?’ he thinks, with a forlorn sniff. Dawn has raided the piggy bank & purchased a new bed in the hope that his usual jolly self will be restored, but in the meantime the shaggy pup has decided to raise a protest by way of some lethal farts.
Karlie, who the gang love full time but only works part time, has yet to experience our new regime. We’ve demanded she brings lashings of ginger bear & a pork pie. And of course, loo roll.