Open letter to Mr McVities

Dear Mr McVities

I can't help but notice, as I drive round this fair isle, that you appear to be very busy sending biscuits all round the place on big mahoosive trucks. I also happen to know that one humble employee of the very useful logistics firm 'Gist' does a sterling job of keeping the flow of biscuity goodness going so that no snack attack is left unsoothed.

But hark! What is this? I hear a pitiful cry... 'A hob-nob, a hob-nob, my kingdom for a hob-nob!' and listen! Here's another! 'Alas! the biscuit tin is empty, I demand a divorce!'
Could it be that there are folk in the land who are biscuit-free? What can be done to help the biscuitless?

Well I have had an idea: that you allow the faithful Gist employee to redirect a truck or two every now and then, to go on a biscuit mercy-mission. Biscuits of every type can be lobbed in the general direction of those whose cups of tea are lacking something to dunk, or those too weak with hunger to venture out to the shops. Think of the joy! Think of the adulation as you cry 'Biscuits for the masses!'

The people of Britain thank you for your sheer biscuit genius, and implore you to bestow oaten goodness on the needy

Yours faithfully
moo (and the UK etsy massive)