The tip of a helmet protruded just past the window frame. The worried, open face of a portly young man followed it.
Martin gulped. This all looked too expensive for him...
No, he was one of these people now, wasn't he? He'd got the letter. On official BPA letterhead and everything. Embossed lettering. His address and the date. A proper letter - 'Your application have been accepted, transfer orders will be sent to you shortly.'
His application had been accepted.
Well, he'd gotten his shiny new uniform, looked at himself in the mirror, and decided he looked surprisingly good, despite the little bit of beer-gut and ever-so-slightly too large helmet. And, more importantly, a small advance on his first wage packet. It was more money than he'd ever seen in his life.
So a cup of tea and a bun were probably alright, right?
