Dear Boss
In regards to my failure to complete my, in all honestly, minimal weekly duties of creating some sort of blog post for the Brewquet website. I had every intention of completing it. The post was to be some of my finest work. The first part of a saga reimagining the tale of Moby Dick through the lens of the Vancouver craft beer scene. It was called “The Search For The Great White Ale. The tale was almost complete and I promise you it was truly my finest piece of writing to date but alas, through no fault of my own it will never see the light of day.
You see, my beloved employer, I was completing another aspect of this job you so graciously employ me for; carefully and professionally delivering a particularly well curated collection of craft beers, when something awful happened. Not to the Brewquet, no that was successfully delivered to it’s delighted recipient without incident. It was after the delivery was completed, on the way back to my vehicle I was distracted by a loud commotion from down the street. No sooner than I had turned my heard to investigate, a figure on a motorcycle dramatically drifted around the corner towards me with two black SUV’s in tow. One of the SUV’s had a damaged bumper as if it had just smashed through, I don’t know, bustling market place full of exotic fruit stalls and men walking around with big planes of glass, and the other had a man hanging out the window pointing some sort of machine gun at the cyclist (does the term “cyclist” refer specifically to bicycle riders or can it also be used for motorcycles?). The gunman opened fire and I dove behind my car to avoid getting hit by the hail of bullets raining down around me. Exactly what happened next I couldn’t exactly say as I couldn’t see the excitement from the safety of my hiding place but after a moment of very loud crashing noises and explosions everything went very quiet.
Once it sounded safe I peered around the side of my bullet riddled car to survey the scene. The SUV’s were both burnt out husks, one flipped on it’s roof and the leather clad motorcycle rider (see that doesn’t sound as good) was crawling down the street away from the burning remains of the bike. I rushed to the injured person to see if I could help.
“It’s ok” I said as knelt by their side. “It’s going to be alright” I unclipped the black mirrored helmet and pulled it off revealing a beautiful woman with flowing black hair and a long jagged scar running across her eye down her cheek.
“Please” She spoke with a thick Russian accent. “You must protect it.” From her pocket she pulled a small golden key.
“Protect it from who? What is it?”
“There is no time” She replied desperately, letting out small gasps of air “They’re… coming” She pressed the small key into my hand and let out a final gasp of air closing her eyes.
Anyway, long story short I ended up on an island in the middle of the pacific fighting Nazi’s who wanted to use a cursed soul of an ancient king to kick start a second holocaust and I didn’t have any cell service. I definitely was not split boarding in the backcountry for a week and shirking my duties. If anyone tells you that they’re probably an agent of the evil organization NAZAK.
It goes without saying that I have not completed this weeks blog post either and you will have to run something else. Good luck dear boss and hope you have a nice day.
-Darrince
Dear Darrince
I have never read such a bold faced lie in all of my life. I pay you every two weeks to write something, anything, to post on the blog once a week for SEO purposes. I give you very little oversight and an awful lot of leeway and you still fail. Maybe if you spent more time doing your job and less coming up with excuses you would be able to complete this incredibly simple task.
Put something up TODAY.
-Your EXTREMELY forgiving boss
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