send me a postcard

i am lying down on a bed that is so hard that it hurts my body to lie on it. 

i am on holiday.

the reason i am on holiday is because i was fired from my work place. 

let me explain.

my work place is a terrible place. my work involves strapping myself to a pole and being rotated above a fire for 8 hours a day. 

i am a professional kebab. 

i smother myself with mint sauce and chilli sauce. i put chilli sauce in my eyes. i shove salad into my orifices. then i do a dance for my boss. i am dressed up as a kebab. i am a succulent and submissive naked kebab. 

i am so greasy and delicious.

but i have had enough. 

my boss is eyeing me up as i put the sauces on to myself. he is eyeing me up and licking his lips and saying 'you are so hot kebab' and 'you are the hottest kebab in town'. 

i feel so sad. normally i like his compliments. but not today. the sauces are congealing all over my glazed and delicious body.

i feel worthless. i start to cry. i am sobbing in front of my boss. i collapse onto the floor and scream and scream 'i am not a fucking kebab i am a human being i am not a meal'.

my boss watches me.

'you are a kebab' he says.

'you are a delicious kebab' he says.

i am still crying and my boss is still eyeing. my boss pulls out a knife. he stabs me. i cry all the way to hospital.

after two weeks in hospital i get a note from my boss. it says 'you are fired' on it.

oh dear.