Thank you Madam Chairperson for that lovely speech and the *ahem* beautiful gift.
I’ve worked at this company for 45 years now. I’ve given it, well, not just the best years of my life, I’ve given it all of my life… and what do I get? A pension I can hardly live on and a poxy gold carriage clock by some company I’ve never heard of which was… let me see… made in China. How lovely. Well thanks. Thanks a bunch. I wanted to retire to Barbados… and all I can afford is Bognor fucking Regis. I’ve made this company millions with my quick thinking… anywhere the yoghurt market wasn’t quite saturated, I targeted and aggressively promoted our fruity, yet creamy, luxury product. I was the man who first introduced the humble gooseberry to our slightly sour dairy product. They all laughed at me! Who was laughing when the trial store, the Tunbridge Wells branch of Tesco, sold twelve pots in the first week?
All of the naysayers were present throughout my career… they tried to convince me that yoghurt was going out of fashion and that we should branch out into cheese or milkshakes. I encouraged branching out, but insisted that yoghurts remain our lifeblood – my motto was, “As long as there are hippies with yeast infections, then yoghurt will always have a customer base!”. OK, it’s not a very catchy slogan, but I leave that sort of thing to marketing. Who thought about putting things other than fruit in yoghurt? Yours truly.
I made mistakes, sure. The brussels sprout yoghurt wasn’t exactly an emphatic success and the less said about with cod liver oil fromage frais the better… but I was the backbone of Snodland Dairies… while I was there, those industrious cows had a reason to live! A purpose in life! Now they’re forcing me to retire because I’m 65 and as mad as a teapot. Well, I’m not going. If I have to go, then everyone is coming with me. Don’t bother to escape, all the exits are sealed with a new super-strength yoghurt which I was developing as an alternative to glue. I have 350 million gallons of rancid yoghurt sealed in storage tanks directly above this conference room… all I have to do is press this button and you will all drown in thick, creamy, stinky dairy product! No, it’s not a cherry stuck on a cardboard box, madam, it’s a detonation button. It’s NOT a cherry stuck on a cardboard box. I don’t care if it looks like it, it’s not. It’s a detonator!
Don’t try to leave! You can’t open that door, it’s sealed shut. I don’t care whether it opens easily – shut it right now! I’ll press it… I swear… don’t push me… I’ll press the button… come back! COME BACK! Right, you bastards, now you’re for it! I’m pressing it! I’m pressing it RIGHT NOW!!!
Um… can anyone get me a tissue? This cherry’s all over my fingers. No, don’t give me a round of applause… I want to kill you all…! No, I won’t calm down! You’re all going to die horribly! I’m going to make you all pay for everything you’ve.. A drink? Oh, OK, a gin and tonic, please. Stop clapping! Bastards!