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Private message to Mr Stephen Rosier
Mar. 9th, 2012 02:48 pmI have finally unearthed the final quarter report. I found it underneath the quarter report for 1990. Which was underneath the final quarter report for 1985. Which was underneath a rather decayed roast beef sandwich (at least that's what I think it was, although the green condition of the meat makes me somewhat doubtful). Merlin, how did the man ever find anything?
Rita Skeeter has been floo calling every day again. My hunch is that she thinks she's been fobbed off for quite long enough (the way she gnashes those pointy incisors behind those bee-stung lips is SO entertaining). I'll bet that if you graciously grant her an hour on Monday or Tuesday, you'll have her absolutely eating out of your hand. Especially if you pour on that patented Rosier charm.
I was copied on the memo you received from Janet Wrenkins detailing her problems with the procurement reports in Sector Two, specifically the ones provided by Gregory Nash. You are aware that she's Nash's mistress, aren't you? Or rather his ex-mistress, as of two and a half weeks ago, which is when Mrs Nash caught them in flagrante delicto. I have a pretty good hunch that these complaints should be taken as a poison pill meant to get him in trouble. Well, even more trouble than he's in from Mrs Nash, notwithstanding all the grovelling. From everything I know about Nash, his taste in mistresses may be unfortunate, but his accuracy in statistical reports has always been entirely satisfactory.
Don't forget to renew the trap over your rubbish bin. I caught the night cleaner rummaging in there again. (By the way: I've heard that programme finally has a semi-official name: Department for Identifying Resource Reliability and Trustworthiness, or DIRRT. Nice.)
Have a good weekend. (Oh, and as for this weekend's match, I'm calling it for the Wimbourne Wasps over the Chudley Cannons, with at least a fifty point spread. Although please don't ever let on to my brother Ron that I said so.)
Rita Skeeter has been floo calling every day again. My hunch is that she thinks she's been fobbed off for quite long enough (the way she gnashes those pointy incisors behind those bee-stung lips is SO entertaining). I'll bet that if you graciously grant her an hour on Monday or Tuesday, you'll have her absolutely eating out of your hand. Especially if you pour on that patented Rosier charm.
I was copied on the memo you received from Janet Wrenkins detailing her problems with the procurement reports in Sector Two, specifically the ones provided by Gregory Nash. You are aware that she's Nash's mistress, aren't you? Or rather his ex-mistress, as of two and a half weeks ago, which is when Mrs Nash caught them in flagrante delicto. I have a pretty good hunch that these complaints should be taken as a poison pill meant to get him in trouble. Well, even more trouble than he's in from Mrs Nash, notwithstanding all the grovelling. From everything I know about Nash, his taste in mistresses may be unfortunate, but his accuracy in statistical reports has always been entirely satisfactory.
Don't forget to renew the trap over your rubbish bin. I caught the night cleaner rummaging in there again. (By the way: I've heard that programme finally has a semi-official name: Department for Identifying Resource Reliability and Trustworthiness, or DIRRT. Nice.)
Have a good weekend. (Oh, and as for this weekend's match, I'm calling it for the Wimbourne Wasps over the Chudley Cannons, with at least a fifty point spread. Although please don't ever let on to my brother Ron that I said so.)
