Dear Mr Kershaw,
Re: The Riddle
We are not terribly concerned with the rotating Celtic pensioner located adjacent to a crater in turn situated in a wooded area on the banks of an estuary, as, by your own admission, this is all goobledegook of the highest order.
We fear however that the old man of Aran going around and around next to a hole in the ground by a tree by a river may be a distraction technique to divert attention away from your nefarious business intentions as regards my good self.
It would appear that you have devised an unfair rota system pertaining to me undertaking menial work in your Middle Eastern eaterie (possibly based in the U.S. - so to America the brave) working within a team of disruptive scrimping intellectuals.
I’m not too sure that I care for your ''plans for us'', Mr Kershaw, which seem to involve ''nights in the scullery'' of your exotic restaurant, Blessings of Babylon. From the sound of things there will be linen in need of laundering (probably table cloths) which wise men fold. It also appears from you only knowing to discuss oh, for anything but light and days instead of me, to say nothing of‘ wise men fighting over me that I am expected to cover your shift as well. This would involve working both days and nights and taking labour away from the wise men who save and would probablt appreciate both the overtime and the anti-social hourly rate in order that they may put away extra each month into their rainy day funds.
I will have no part in it Mr. Kershaw, especially given that you are more than able to undertake this work yourself. You've got two strong arms, time to kill and time to carry on and try for sins and false alarms (presumably food hygiene and bogus security systems respectively).
Even if I were to work in your kitchen, I fear that my tenure would be short and I would say very soon that ''I don’t wanna be here no more''.
I hope that my declinature does not offend and wish you luck in securing an alternative candidate.