At work, we’re rushing to deliver some shots. They’re for a big movie… and we’re working to a big deadline.
We have to deliver the seventy shots – on which we’ve been doing post production – to a major film studio, by next Tuesday.
The studio are sending us increasingly bossy emails about NOT missing the deadline. The latest of the emails describes the deadline as a ‘DROP DEAD DEADLINE.’ This means we cannot afford to miss it, for any reason. If we do miss it, we might as well all drop dead. I told you working in film production can be tough (I did previously in this blog, anyway).
But anyway… the Queen has just died! And the Monday before next Tuesday (our deadline) is now her state funeral… and officially a bank holiday! What an excellent excuse to try and push the deadline!
In response to our clients’ latest bossy email, I now reply:
It’s only after I press ‘send’ that I realise what I’ve done…
I’ve mentioned ‘funeral of the Queen’ and ‘drop dead deadline’ in the same sentence!
What was I thinking?!
OMG, the disrespect! The fucking disrespect!
Are our clients, in the studio, going to spot my Prince Philip-level gaffe and freak out?
Will I end up going to the Tower… and being executed?
Or… a worse fate still… will my email above go viral?
For the next two hours, I sweat it out… waiting for the clients to respond. But they don’t. And, in fact, they never do. Not to this particular email, anyway.
Looks like I’ve escaped beheading or social media humiliation or both of these things… this time.
P. D. Clifton 
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