Written by bonzodog64

Monday, 13 April 2009


The story you are trying to access may cause offense, may be in poor taste, or may contain subject matter of a graphic nature. This story was written as a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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image for Sir Alan Sugar fires himself in bonanza bedroom, boardroom, bunk-up!
A tired and emotional Sir Alan is sedated and returned to his hutch

Following an exhausting day belittling, berating and bullying his minions, Sir Alan returns to his penthouse for a nightcap. Several drinks later and the belligerent scheister staggers upstairs to be greeted by the amorous advances of "Lady Sugar".

As a consequence of drink and fatigue. "Zucker" fails to recognise his good woman and launches into a tirade of abuse.

"Call those a pair of tits? Your avving a laugh, aintcha? Oh Vai! I've had bigger spots on my arse! I didn't get to the position I am in with your sort of seduction technique. If I tried to pull myself with your sort of piss poor effort, I would be handing me my P45 and telling myself to fuck off!

"How much did all this cost? Flowers, champagne and oysters? What a schlock! My poor old mother would have cried, "Oi Gavalt, what a klutz". Me old dad would do me mum over the coal cot in December, so don't tell me youv'e had it tough sunny Jim. What an "ongepotchket: Get your clothes on, stop your crying and piss off outa my bedroom, your fired!" Send in the next wife on your way out".

The disorientated and abrasive Sir Alan gets undressed and catches his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. "Ere, What are you doing in my room you little schmuck? Who do you think you are, wondering into my office at this time of night with your tiny little schlong hanging out? Where the hell do you think you are sunshine? Lose some weight, have a shave, stop looking like Sid James and piss off outta my office, your fired! What the hell were you thinking wearing brown loafers with that string vest? Oi vai, What a schitzim. If I wanted a belligerent, abrasive, loud mouthed, pugnacious little scrote with a face like a Bulldog licking piss off nettles, I would hire one, now piss off, you're fired!"

A succession of flunkeys, lackeys, underlings and minions are brought to Sir Alan to reason and remonstrate with him until finally the noise and disturbance causes a resort to the local constabulary which promptly arrives in the form of PC A Prentice who immediately sets about pacifying or arresting the offending peer of the realm.

"Cuff me? do you know who I am? I was making more money than me dad in the late 60's wheeling and dealing around Hackney market until I had enough money to start a crappy home computer and electronics company, so don't come in here mouthing off about "you have the right to remain silent". Listen sunshine I was flogging dodgy gear down the market while you were still shitting in nappies so don't give me all that "I will have to arrest you Sir if you don't calm down rubbish". If you want a place in my company, you'll have to sort yourself out mate! The uniform stinks, I don't like your attitude, and your company car is a shithouse! How much they paying you? You can't arrest me I'm Sid James! I'll throw you out myself"

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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