The girl whose leaving email you thanklessly helped to write*, who you always secretly had a thing for, has become the millionth parent in Luxembourg this year to take their new born into work.

The kid (which is not yours because it has hooves) was shamelessly paraded underneath the eyes of:
Gushing, 
Slightly interested,
Indifferent,
Suspicious, 
and even a handful of contemptuous colleagues. 

The latter of these swiftly upped and left for a 3rd coffee in an impressive ant-like formation. 

​The woman's Line Manager meanwhile spewed, "Well, at least we are almost sure that the maternity leave was genuine.  Unlike other women here who are conspicuously absent the whole time, come back and merely place a photo on their desks!  Like that magically explains everything."

The Splice will be awarding said woman the Vapid, Sad Sack Scum-Sucker of the year Award soon.   

Along with a good hard face-slap.

With a venomous fish.

​
*She left for 6 months and came crawling back.  

That's right.  The place you trudge to every morning from the bus stop you can't pronounce is a recreated Terracotta army site.  Essentially, you are a player in a 21st Century version of Qin Shi Huang’s afterlife.

The Splice is going to kindly give you a virtual tour.  Right now:

The infantrymen are lightly armoured, wielding basic weapons they had to source themselves.  They are the ones forced to duke it out on the Front Line.     

The Officers (pictured) are way behind, endlessly locked in clandestine discussion, their hands empty and shaped in what could only be described as a masturbatory position.  Many of these people do not even have heads, and are essentially hollow inside.

The Archers who skulk between are there to report on any out of order behaviour from the Front Lines.  Jesters and acrobats are along for the ride.  A significant amount of the soldiers are still buried (in shit) with no immediate plans to be unearthed, even though their existence is well known.

The Emperor himself meanwhile is 1.5 kilometres away within a mountain of jade and gold.  There are no immediately obvious open lines of communication.   Regardless, his army are ordered to face the other direction, and must defend him without question. 

But woe betide he who goes anywhere near the precious fucker. 

Without warning, Agents dressed like French IT workers panicked a busload of commuters this week by jumping up and demanding proof of fare.  The driver noted, “Most passengers scooted to the middle doors like they always get out at the Josy Barthel Stadium.”

“Attempts to prize them open resulted in six people falling into a kind of human ball making it impossible for the next wave to even try.”

A Brit, Tom Grageingwell told the Splice “My effort to filibuster them by playing the language game lasted about 0.7 seconds.  Even showing my M-Kaart which expired in 2013 didn’t placate them in the slightest.   Why did I bother getting that special plastic wallet for it then?"  

"At least I didn't go for the doors, those people got beaten with sticks."

The Agents held their own throughout, facing such gems as; “This is illegal in my country!”  “You wouldn’t act like this in first class!” and “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!”

Concerned by these scare tactics, the Splice was mortified to learn of the following plans the Luxembourg government has:

• Staff of Cactus, Auchan and Delhaize will check to see if customers are sneakily also shopping at Aldi and Lidl.  Those shopping in neighbouring countries will have their Luxembourg residency stripped, and may even experience an ‘accident’ on the way home.
• Anyone openly complaining about the slow progress of the trams will be thrown into that underground train station at the airport until they can figure out what to do with it.

You’ve been warned dinguses.