I've worked for Royal Mail in sorting offices before, and its possibly the closest you can get to prison without being arrested. All you can smell is farts and cheap aftershave, and everyone wears a badly fitting blue shirt. Unless of course you get a cushy number like Postman Pat, bastard.
There are no farts in Greendale of course, and Reverend Timms wears Chanel Egoiste. I can imagine a teadance taking place there, it's that sort of place. Put up a brightly coloured burgular alarm on your property and they'll be complaining to the council.
Postman Pat 71Mb
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Holiday For Percussion - Dick Schory
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