Ladies and gents of cyberspace, I give you Tommy Tuttle, left, the legend of the postroom. This man is the glue that holds the Mail together, as he delivers post on his Tuttle-shuttle. A man with an innate knowledge of franking machines, when a packet isn't a packet and how to sneak a postcard into a mailbag undetected, he's worked for the Mail since he appeared as Jimmy in Quadrophenia back in the 70s with that bloke off the Bill. Not liable to be heard singing: "This is the Tuttle, crossing the border, bringing the cheque and the postal order" or "Tommy Tuttle, on his shuttle"
The other chap is Mr Cyrus Ferguson, our securuty guard. He lives a solitary life in the most solitary of places Withernsea (known to the locals as Witherunsea for some strange reason. Quite possibly the most bad tempered man in security, I once asked him what he did on his weekend. "Did nothing on Saturday," came his gruff reply "and spent Sunday recovering." Withernsea were rocking that night.