The Famous Kirklees Wig

So, 'The Famous Kirklees Wig' is no more. The facts, as far as I can ascertain, reveal a story of ignorance, back stabbing, self immolation, and assisted sucicide, a total disgrace to the good name and reputation of The KLR.

This Wig should be thoroughly ashamed of itself, especially as it has given no thought to the ducks whom are now bereft of their winter nesting supply.

It will seem strange to walk the platform at Clayton West without a hoarse, gutteral, voice, yelling at some paying passenger who may have inadverntently strayed into an area that The Wig' considered its' own personal domain. Stranger still to be unable to watch the ever widening patch between ginger and grey; a kind of tonsure in reverse. How Jay will cope without the rough hand on the throttle and the jerking uneven progress of the stock to platform 1, only time and a lengthened engine life will tell. ' How are the mighty fallen and the ranks of the Sick Notes diminished.'

Still, we must look for the silver lining. No more will the elderly drivers be confused by shouts of 'Green flag', no more will a fistfull of ticket stubs be thrust into the cab just as the driver is wrestling with both regulator and brake, and, perhaps, no more will the morning moan reverberate amongst the ranks of hastily prepared engines.

Comrades, enough of these negative thoughts. Although we mourn the passing of nothing in particular, look, and give huzzah, for we have an even bigger Sh*t standing in the wings. Three cheers for our very own Care in the Community.