Yeah. Bedn waiting 7 days for item- no reply from message I sent yesterday either. Not looking good

Title: "The Adventures of Hash Wala"

Scene: A dimly lit street corner in London. It’s a typical chilly evening. We hear the distant sound of the hustle and bustle of London traffic. A sign reads “Hash Wala’s Corner Shop.” The shop is small, messy, and full of oddities—mismatched chairs, a cracked teapot, and a big sign with “HASH WALA” scribbled in chalk. A very British gentleman, Sir Reginald Fiddlesticks, in his tweed suit, monocle, and top hat, approaches the shop. Inside, behind the counter, is Hash Wala, an eccentric, energetic Indian man with a giant bushy mustache, wearing an old kurta, and constantly surrounded by smoke from his mysterious "melty hash."

[The bell above the door rings as Sir Reginald enters the shop.]

Sir Reginald: (In a posh British accent) Good heavens! What is this place? It smells like a blend of incense, potpourri, and... what, might I ask, is that peculiar odour?

Hash Wala: (Squints through smoke, grinning wide) Ah! Welcome, welcome, my dear Sir! You’ve arrived at Hash Wala’s very own corner of... enlightenment! The finest hash, the finest tea, and the finest company you’ll ever find! (He laughs, coughing slightly from the smoke.)

Sir Reginald: (Looks around skeptically) I see, yes. It smells like my old uncle's beard after a night at the local pub. Quite pungent. What exactly is it you serve here, my good man?

Hash Wala: (Suddenly gets very serious) What do I serve? I serve... magic! I serve... history! I serve... a jolly good time! (He dramatically throws his arms up in the air, knocking over a jar of something sticky.) I serve you, my friend, the melty hash! It melts your worries away!

Sir Reginald: (Frowning) Melty hash, you say? What does it... melt exactly?

Hash Wala: (Leaning in and whispering conspiratorially) Melt your mind, melt your troubles, melt your reality, my dear chap. (He waves a hand, as if summoning mystical forces.) You see, the hash is not just any hash. It’s a hash of the finest quality, with a little British twist. I call it... ‘Hash of the Empire.’ (He sniffs the air, looking proud.)

Sir Reginald: (Tilts his monocle, looking slightly horrified) 'Hash of the Empire'? That's... well, quite odd, old fellow. Is it edible, or do I need a shovel and a spade to dig through it?

Hash Wala: (Laughs heartily, slapping the counter) Oh, Sir! It's far more than edible! It's... it's like the Queen’s corgis after a run in the park—fluffy, wonderful, and slightly disorienting! You see, this hash has the power to make you rethink everything. It's not just a snack; it's an experience.

Sir Reginald: (Raises an eyebrow) I’m not certain I wish to rethink everything. I’m quite fond of my current thinking, thank you. I quite like knowing which fork to use at dinner.

Hash Wala: (Laughing wildly) Forks? Oh, you mean those things that are too delicate for the real work? Here, we use our hands! And we enjoy the real experience of life! (He points to a huge jar of suspicious-looking green goo on the shelf.) Try a dab of this, my dear Sir. It’s called ‘The Sceptre’s Delight.’

Sir Reginald: (Leaning back) Ahem, ‘The Sceptre’s Delight,’ you say? That sounds more like a British scandal than a snack. Do I need a passport to sample it?

Hash Wala: (Grinning even wider) Nah, nah, mate! You just need an open mind and a sense of adventure! (He grabs a spoon and scoops out a small portion of the goo, offering it to Sir Reginald.) Go on, have a taste! It’ll make you feel like you're flying over Buckingham Palace with a cup of tea in hand!

Sir Reginald: (Glaring at the spoon) I’m afraid I’ve never been fond of flying, especially over palaces... But very well, just a small taste.

[Sir Reginald hesitates, then tentatively takes a bite of the goo. His eyes widen.]

Sir Reginald: (Eyes darting around, starting to sway slightly) Blimey! What in tarnation is this? It’s like... it’s like I can hear the Queen’s voice in my head saying, ‘Reginald, do stop acting so stiff and get on with it.’

Hash Wala: (Nods sagely, puffing out more smoke) Exactly, exactly! You’re getting it now! You see, this hash isn’t just about the flavours, it’s about unlocking your true potential! The world suddenly feels like... like one big garden party!

Sir Reginald: (In a daze, speaking very slowly) By Jove, I do believe... I just saw a crow wearing a bow tie. And was that Big Ben... dancing?

Hash Wala: (Nodding, amused) Yes, my friend! That’s the magic of the Hash Wala special! You can see things you’ve never seen before! Think things you’ve never thought before! Like... maybe you’ll realize that you don’t need all these fancy clothes and manners. You could just wear a kurta and be free, like me!

Sir Reginald: (Looking down at his suit, then staring at Hash Wala’s kurta) A kurta, you say? Well, I never thought I’d... but you know, it does look rather comfortable... and colourful. Perhaps I’ll take a set. But first, what in the world is that noise coming from your kettle?

Hash Wala: (Hears a strange buzzing noise) Ah, the tea kettle! It's the ‘Saffron Surprise’ brewing. It sings to you when it’s ready! It’s a symphony for the soul, my good Sir! (He rushes to the kettle, which is now emitting a high-pitched hum.)

Sir Reginald: (Laughing) Well, I’ll be! A tea kettle with musical aspirations? Perhaps I’ve finally lost my mind!

Hash Wala: (Chuckling) Oh, Sir, you haven’t lost it. You’ve just found it in a completely new place!

[Both burst into laughter, the room filled with smoke and the scent of tea.]

Sir Reginald: (Giggling uncontrollably) By Jove! I do believe this is the most insane tea party I’ve ever had!

Hash Wala: (Grinning) Welcome to the Hash Wala experience, old sport! Where the party never stops... and the hash never melts... well, at least not completely!

[The scene fades out with them laughing, the kettle whistling, and the sound of Big Ben’s faint jiggling tune in the distance.]