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earlThe Daily Contact Service

Care & Repair was founded by Lord Thomas Morehound de Courcy Esq in 1874. Lord Morehound was simply fascinated by the dark arts throughout his life and whilst facilitating – or hosting as they called it back then – a séance, he witnessed a life changing yet bloody terrifying event. As Madame Aziari attempted the summon the spirit of Morehounds dead wife Coniferus, he became aware of his mortality for the first time in a most profound way. As his fiery deceased Coniferus first spoke to him and then attempted to choke him to death from beyond the grave, Lord Morehound cast a sideways glance at the wooden door frame on the entrance to the séance parlour….

Aghast

And what he saw would have raised the dead if Madame Aziari had not already done so. There were not one but several chips and general wear and tear on the wooden frame! Now normally, Morehounds Polynesian manservant Winston would have sorted that out but Winston has taken leave to attend A Freak Carnival 243 miles away in Hempston Heath Wood. Pre digital era, there was no way of contacting the jellyfaced weirdo so Lord Morehound knew that it would be left to him to repair and maintain, or care and repair this cosmetic blemishery on the frame.  Bravely, he withheld his torment from the other séance attendees so continue his struggle with his former spouses stroppy spectre. Finally Madame Aziari cast a Gypsy spell and dear old Coniferus was vanquished back to oblivion.

But the wizened old gypsy hag had noticed a change in the countenance of Morehounds normally sadistic yet jolly demeanour. When questioned by the magical crone as to what the source of his real terror was as his former beloved stretched across time and space to strangle his adulterers neck, Morehound shrunk like a frightened child in a Russian winter and could barely speak of the hell he had witnessed. Coazed by the promise of the hand and private areas of her sultry niece Vetlana, Morehound revealed all….

The Coil Tightens

But it was too much for the aged witch to take and upon hearing of the neglected state of Morehounds cedar wood door frame, she soon perished as her heart gave in and she spewed blood from her mouth and on to Morehound’s Persian rug. Which made him a bit pissed off as you can imagine. ‘Now I must care and repair two precious areas of my luxurious inherited domicilus!! Hath God no mercy on brittle men?” he exclaimed to no one in particular which was rich in the sense that he was not a religious man in any shape or form though he could be quite brittle due to a calcium deficiency in his miserable early years at Arkadia Orchard Orphanage Building for Young Irresponsibles.

Enterprise Solutions

Vexed by the sudden existence of two laborious tasks, Lord Morehound networked his fellow seance to set up a Care & Repair project peopled only by uneducated ruffians and scum with labour skills that could be rightfully exploited by fine intelligent gentleman such as he. These Care and Repair spivs would live nearby in tiny wafer biscuit sheds separate from the domestic help, the retarded cousins and mistresses. They would wear special uniforms made from potato sacks and would only exist when called upon to perform their duties. They would come to be known collectively as ‘The Hidden Marketplace’. The Help could now freely take the piss out of their employers and rotten bastards like Lord Morehound would continue to reinforce their warped sense of superiority and absinthe fuelled sense of destiny creating a world of ugliness, beauty, despair , fine confectionery and bondage.

And so to this every day, the depraved,  idiotic denizens Landed Gentry are still heard to cry when their egyptian linen is crumpled, their golden doorknobs unshined, their mile wide diamond encrusted  plasma tvs unwiped, their caviar toasters quite fucked, their titanium showers on the bleedin fritz, their Versace wellingtons shat in, their Mercs unwashed. their precious toes unvarnished, their priozewinning bluebells untended, their tennis courts unstarched, their underwear in chaos, their sherry decanters unclean, their sanity cracked, their floors unwaxed, their every whim unfixed….Care & Repair Chaps! Care & Repair!

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