Dear Sir/Madam of the Thurrock Gazette,
Would you be so kind as to print this in your esteemed publication.
Myself and two close friends were recently participants in the New Years Eve celebrations at your local disco ‘P’zaz’, which to the best of my recollection was thoroughly enjoyable. However, on the walk home following the festivities, alcohol, stiletto shoes, and gravity conspired against me and, in short, I had a problem staying upright. I managed to stumble on a non-existent obstacle and with all the grace of a blind giraffe falling off a treadmill, landed in a crumpled heap in the middle of a road. My ‘friends’ found this outstandingly funny. One in particular bent double with hysterics, lost her balance, twisted strangely, and disappeared through one of your good resident’s hedgerows and into their garden, her laughter still audible from the street.
I had twisted my ankle quite badly when I’d fallen and couldn’t quite manage to pick myself up. The hilarity of seeing my friend’s feet sticking out from a garden hedge also limited my capacity for movement. While I was sprawled out in a rather unladylike fashion across the street, with one friend now in desperate need of a bathroom and the other trapped in dense foliage, I felt two hands beneath my armpits, guiding me back to a vertical position.
My hero had arrived.
The gentleman kindly helped me up and I turned to face him with the intention of thanking him profusely. I stared into the face of a six-foot white rabbit with huge pink floppy ears. In my intoxicated state my initial reaction was one of abject fear at my hallucination so I did what anyone would do in my situation and wailed like a klaxon. The white rabbit tried to reason with me but I couldn’t hear what he was saying at this point as I was shouting quite loudly directly into his fuzzy face. My friend’s elder brother and several of his rugby pals suddenly appeared from around the corner. The last I saw of the heroic White Rabbit was his fluffy tail bouncing in the moonlight as he ran, followed by a large bunch of hefty lads who had assumed we were being attacked by an oddly dressed pervert.
The reason I’m writing this letter is, if you were the White Rabbit who helped a crumpled mess of a woman up from the road next to P’zaz nightclub last New Year, I would like to say the following:
-I now understand you had been to a New Year’s Fancy Dress Party.
-My friend’s brother refuses to tell me what they did to you when they caught you.
-I am so very, very sorry that your good deed inevitably lead to an unpleasant physical encounter.
-I am incredibly impressed that a man in a rabbit suit can run that fast at 3 o’clock in the morning.
I would like to offer you my sincerest apologies, and wish you a very Happy New Year.