The guard announcing the late arrival of a train at Streatham station tonight sounded so much like a Dalek that my friend Paul and I spent ten minutes bent double on the platform laughing at him.
Then we started doing impressions. “Your-ser-vice-is-delayed-due-to-a-hu-man-under-a-train”, “Please-report-any-sus-pic-ious-act-ivities-to-the-Sup-reme-Dalek”, “Hu-mans-carrying-bikes-on-to-the-train-will-be-ex-termin-ated.”
Yeah, yeah, so we’re both 35 years old and should know better. I guess you had to be there.
Wish you had been.