THE SPACEMAN STEALETH!


I'm sorry. But I can't let this HEINOUS crime go un reported. This time he's gone too frikkin far. I'm sorry, but for the first time in my life I am forced to yell 'OI! SPACEY! NO!' We could cope with the blond barnet in Consenting Adults. We went out and rented (though could not bring ourselves to watch) Iron Will! We uttered nary a sylable at the microsoft advert! BUT THIS IS BEYOND A JOKE! THIS IS A FELONY OF THE MOST SEVERE NATURE!
I am talking of course about the (sob) pre meditated THEFT and general PINCHING of one room service trolley.

It is a bleak day in the history of mans evolution that the purloining of a room service cart is greeted with howls of mirth. I, and countless others are, frankly, disgusted by such behaviour. As such we have set up a campaign to highlight the neglect that such hard working pieces of hostelry equipment face every day at the hands of oscar winning actors. CARTS HAVE FEELINGS TOO!!! We managed to find the trolley that bore the brunt of the wrath of Spacey and have an exclusive interview, conducted once again by our intrepide reporter Jack Merde, to prove the indignities that the poor poppet had to suffer. Known simply as 'beverages' or Bev as she preferes to be called, the cart has been unable to resume normal service after her traumas.

A picture showing Bev in her prime.

JM: So, Bev, tell us, in your own words, what happened...

BEV: (for it is she) Well. I was going about my normal routine, serving mainly continental breakfasts in the hotel where I work *starts sobbing* sorry. Used to work.

JM: Can you carry on?

BEV: I think so. It's important people know the truth.

JM: Absolutely. In your own time.

BEV: We'd gotten word that a famous actor was staying in the hotel. Usually these actor types are so fussy! You wouldnt believe it! But this one wanted everything on the menu! I was so weighted down. I could feel my veneer start to crack in places. But I thought no. I can't dissapoint. The door opened to semi darkness and this balding man, humming he was, gestured for be to come in. He gave Dave (the waiter) a huge payoff, and I was left alone. Immediatly the man stopped humming. He pulled off his dressing gown to reveal that he was fully dressed in Cat boots and jeans. He pulled on a waiters jacket over his work shirt, and in shades wheeled me out of the door. As he pushed, looking furtive he started munching on a plate of scrambled eggs, dropping grease all over my specially extended serving arms. I tried to escape by making a corner wheel stick, but he kept going!!!

JM: You're telling me he just dropped breakfast items on you?? Has he no shame!

BEV: I'm telling it like it is. The man is a slob!! Anyway. He made it past the porter and to the parking lot. A few valets looked at us quizzically, but no matter how loud I rattled my coke cans no one stopped him. It was then that I saw the truck.

JM: THE TRUCK!!

BEV: I....I knew it was the end. He manhandled me into the back, scratching one of my brass handles and screeched off. The next 20 minutes were the worst of my life. I was thrown around. I thought I'd never see another chaffing dish again! Then, all of a sudden, the truck came to a halt. Three of the plates that I had been carrying had been smashed and I was covered in coffee. I could hear voices. Then laughter. Loud harsh laughter. I could tell they were laughing at my situation. Any other day and I would be carrying danishes, but today! Why that room was all I could think. Why. Why. The harsh light of day blinded my as the tarp was thrown back. The men were laughing so hard that they almost dropped me. The wheeled my across gravel. My chrome hubs will never been the same again. The balding man left. Whilst he was away more people began cleaning me up and shining these hot lights at me. My vanish began to crackle. Then, when things couldnt get any worse, balding man returned. Yelling about 'industrial lubricant' with a short bald man. Balding man was wearing all new clothes and suddenly sprawled himself ontop of me pretending to be Superman. Bald guy seemed unimpressed and a big argument about Jimmy Hoffa started up! They were going to bury me in concrete!!! AARRGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!NOOO MOORREE!!

(at this point BEV was overcome with emotion. After an hour and some gentle afternoon tea transportation she recovered. She could not recall anything after the Hoffa torture, but was found, defaced (with the words 'keyser soze wishes he was me' chisselled into her fake victorian beeding) and devoid of all crockery.

Anyone who has any information that may lead to the arrest of the fiends who did this to a defenceless cart should email jack merde at jack_merde@yahoo.com

Follow this link to see other breeds of catering carts that Kenneth Spacey may have made off with. Allegedly. SERVICE CARTS!!