MCC +1

Bloody Hell, shitfire and bumholes.
Our boxes of stuff that have been in ‘safe storage’ courtesy of Tom ‘crazier than a park bench drunk’ Scott have been damaged.
At some point this year they’ve had what would appear from the aftermath to be a very large roll of wallpaper or a pallet full of bowling balls dropped on them. God, I’m angry. But I’m being typically British about it and holding the anger inside where it can cause me to have a stroke, or coagulate into a tumour.
“Leave it in my warehouse” he told us, “Don’t pay some extortionate price for a lock-up - I’ll make a space for you to put it all in” 
It was supposed to be locked away in a spare part of the building, not left in a corner for rats to piss on and for clumsy fork-lift drivers to drop stock onto.
Jesus, Mary, Joseph and an assortment of other fictional characters. 
I seem to remember Tom has a member of staff who asked Philippa out a few years ago and she turned him down, so I’m rather assuming it was him and he did it deliberately. 
Tom’s offered to pay for any damage and to replace anything that’s irreparable but what about the sentimental losses? What about the betrayal of the trust we placed in him? What about the psychological side-effects?
If Philippa didn’t work for him I’d probably try and sue him.

RC 19-7-14