A New Era Begins…
It seemed mundane enough. A couple of bank statements, the new Private Eye, some crap from the Inland Revenue – the same junk that my parents forward to me from home every month. "But wait," I thought, examining an innocent looking brown envelope. "What's this? A letter from the good folks at the Prescription Pricing Authority?" My curiousity was piqued.
My heart sank a little as I began to read the letter. "Oh," I thought, "it's just that certificate for free dental treatment that I applied for." How wrong that thought would soon prove to be. Dejected, I scanned down the list of things that I could use the certificate to claim for, like the leech on society that I am. And that's when I saw it, the bulleted item that is to change my life forever:
Yes, you did read that correctly. No, I didn't photoshop it in. Free wigs. Free wigs!
FREE FUCKING WIGS
The phrase "The possibilities are endless" is banded around a lot these days by the press and advertising companies, but it is difficult to think of a situation to which it applies more than the one I find myself in now. Contemplating for just a few minutes, I have already brainstormed several ways in which these gratis head coverings could be used to improve my life.
- As a comical and/or stylish replacement for my current (frankly rubbish) hair.
- As an unusual yet attractive and effective tea cosy.
- Two words: Robotic wife.
- For leaving on my pillow and stroking during lonely winter nights.
I'm sure by now you appreciate (and probably share) the state of ecstacy that I am currently in, but there is more. Much more! The business potential of these wigs is literally limitless. Here are just a few of my ideas.
- Low maintainence (and 100% immune to death) pets for children with ADHD (addition of those little googly eyes required, however).
- Many wigs could be sewn together to create a range of clothing that would take the catwalks of London and Paris by storm.
- Undercutting NHS prices and flogging on the hair black market (which I'm totally sure does exist) to people not fortunate enough to be in possession of certificate HC2.
All quite lucrative, I'm certain you'll agree. And now I must sleep, so that I can get the first bus to the local hospital in the morning to claim my sack of free wigs. And it has just been pointed out to me that, thanks to my wonderful certificate, I can even claim the bus fare back. Life is good.