October 3, 2014 by 250 Beers
Dearest cousin Ipswich,
It wasn’t long after the bullet had been removed from my gunshot wound that I got knee-capped again. A double blow. Bam. That Wade Curtis is a crack shot and he knows how to kick a town while he’s down.
The first painstaking wound was inflicted when I first learnt about Ali Orchard’s departure from TippleHawk (it sounds better than TomaTap). It was a long road to recovery but, you know, maybe I’ll get over it one day. She departed with her head held high – enticed by new beginnings as the head chef-in-waiting at Wade’s new 4 Hearts brew bar over your way. Who could stand in Ali’s way? She’s destined for great things.
I was on the road to sorting my shit out when I copped the second blow. Medics had said that I’d make a full recovery and that my rather camp shuffle wouldn’t be a long-term trait of my gait but that second SHHMACK! hurt and changed everything. Jim Gold had resigned from his role at Tippler’s Tap to take on a larger gig at – wait for it – Wade’s new 4 Hearts brew bar in Ipswich. It hurt bad.
Damn you Wade!
Holy shit. What next? Are you going to chop my arm off by taking Ethel – the cleaner from The Embassy too? Or maybe you want to sever my ear by taking Jeffrey the dish washer from Bitter Suite?
Doctors reckon it might take some time for me to get over this. I can’t take much more.
If there is anything that you can do to stop Mr Curtis from hurting me further then I’d owe you big time. Surely, there must be staff out your way up to the task of filling new roles at the brewery?
Your loving cousin,