An unfinished draft pick on Fox Sports? A.Morris at Washington was 10th? Absurd. What? What time is it? 10:23, morning, by the rays through the window.
"Halle?”
Not here. Where did she go? She was here a minute ago. Or not? Now, what was I doing? A draft pick? Yes. Wait. There was something on my mind. What was it? Minimise. Now, what was it? Good background, when was that changed? The Apollo Lunar roving vehicle. Nice.
"John?”
He’s not here, either. Maybe he changed it. It’s okay, it can stay for a while. What was I doing? Mmm, hungry. After 10, perhaps get something from the kitchen...
Look at that, these shelves are a bit dusty. Halle really should get round with her duster more often. She’s good with the hoover but I guess she skips on the dusting. That evil wizard figure is covered in so much dust he looks like he’s suffering from radioactive fallout. And his favourite piece, the murderous unicorn, isn’t so much a raven black anymore, more like goose grey.
The computer’s on. Did I turn it on? Browser’s on. Maximise. Draft pick, fantasy football on Fox Sports. Unfinished. Is this John’s? Better not close it, might be important for him. Was that my stomach? Gotta get something to eat...
"Halle?”
Not here. What was I doing?
"John?”
Not even John. Oh, the computer’s on, good, I wanted to do something. What was it? What’s this? Fox Sports fantasy football draft pick? Great. Is this John’s? He’s got some strange picks here. But he can do whatever he likes. Is there a way to save this and have a go myself?
"John! You left the computer on!”
I’ll save it under his name. Good. Now, is McKoy available? Yes! Cool, he can be my running back. Now I need a few from the Giants, not much left. Where can I find that menu with the rankings, no, not...
What is this? A draft pick? Where was I? Minimise. I need to do something, now what was it?
"Halle?”
Where is she?
"Halle? You back yet?”
Guess not. Did I write it down somewhere? Wow, the dust on this desk. And the mess, so many bits of paper and...stuff. What is this for? The junk I find...should get Halle to do a bit of spring cleaning. This room could surely use it. Look at my fantasy figures up on the shelf. My murderous unicorn is covered.
"John?”
He’s not here, either. That’s strange. I’m hungry, when did I last eat? Perhaps I should go and get something...
That is a nice background picture, I guess John put it on. I don’t think I could take too much of the Apollo Lunar roving vehicle, but it can stay for a while a least. Now, what was I doing?
"Halle?”
No reply. Guess she’s not here. The front door.
"Halle?”
"No! It’s John!”
"Great! John? Did you change the background on my computer?”
"Guess I did. Sorry.”
35 - Fat bird
(Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, Twister (the game), hot air balloon, fishnet stockings)
Fat. No other word for it. Obese. Okay, so there is. But fat fit better. And not big-boned, or overly plump. Fat. She was so fat she made Israel Kamakawiwo’ole look anorexic. Sadly, she couldn't play the ukulele as well as him, maybe it would've helped. When researching the definition of 'fat' in the Oxford English Dictionary they even considered her name as a candidate for a reference.
And guess who was going out with her, well, going out is a stretch of the imagination, more like molested and bullied. One moment I was enjoying a pint in the club with a couple of friends, the next I was suffocating under a mountain of meat. Voluptuous love handles there were not, only folds of fat, one over the other. The first time I tried - what was I thinking? - all I found was one fold after another. Collected a few cents, though.
Now it's been two years, going out to places and hiding the glances, staying in and surviving the intimacy. The worst was when she'd hired a hot air balloon ride for my birthday and it couldn't take off, not with her inside the basket. She got really upset about that one, and I never heard the end of that one. It was my fault for asking for it. I'd leave her if it wasn't for the fact she's destroyed any self-esteem I'd ever had with her constant negative banter about myself.
Tonight was inside, thankfully only a nostalgic trip from her childhood, playing Twister. An elephant doing yoga would be more successful. She was crushing my leg with her double chin.
"Spin it! I can't hold this position much longer!"
I was the one holding her up. One false move and goodbye grandchildren.
"Left hand, green."
"Oh, that’s easy!"
One swing of her flabby arm across my body and I collapse with her weight crushing down on me. Her fishnet stockings, probably made from real fish nets, not only made her legs look like roast hams, with fake suntanned flesh squeezing through the reinforced mesh, but also left a mark on my face.
"You're so pathetic, I win again!"
It was better to let her win. Her 'forcing me to make up with her' ploy when she lost was always a bad move.
"Look…I've got something important to tell you."
Oh no, not the summer holiday! Not another trip to the beach. Last time they called out the local Whale Watch and tried to put her back out to sea.
"I've…I've found someone else!"
Under the folds? Where?
"I'm sorry, but it's just not working out, it is? We're just not going anywhere, are we?"
What is this? A push for a proposal?
"I can see you're in shock, I know, after all we've been through, but I think it's for the best."
Who's the lucky guy?
"If you want we can talk about it, perhaps there's a way we can make it work?"
Where's the door?
36 - Two's a crowd, three's company
(12 sweaty Sumo wrestlers, indestructible filing cabinet, wooden hanger, Big Wheel (tricycle))
"Just like Kanagawa, this."
"What?"
"'A 'sinch' you said."
"What are you going on about?"
Dan's voice echoed under the metal structure.
"'In and out, quick as a flash' you said. 'No problem'."
"What?"
"You never told me we were robbing a Japanese gym, though, did ya?"
"Oh, shut up, Kaye. I'll have it done in an hour, max."
"Make that 25 minutes, I've got plans tonight."
Dan banged the metal to no avail.
"Yeah, what a 'sinch' that was, twenty sweaty Sumo wrestlers..."
"Twelve."
"Oh, I stand corrected. Twelve sweaty Sumo wrestlers come running in, demanding we explain our situation."
"I got us out of there, didn't I?"
"Yeah, right. Only after my arse was ripped apart by a ton of wasabi!"
"Stop complaining!"
The gig hadn't gone well so far. Told to be an easy job, Dan and Kaye came quite unprepared. 'Get in that office, open the filing cabinet and extract these files.' Those were the orders. But no one had bothered to tell them what they'd be up against. The office door was child's play, a skeleton key and they were in, but once they saw the target, a large metal filing cabinet, they knew it was going to be a long night. They'd never seen anything like it, no keyholes, metal an inch thick at least, and no way in. Initial hits with a large hammer had only jammed the drawers shut even more, making them impossible to open. Dan was trying a way in from the bottom.
"Did you bring the screwdrivers?"
"Yes."
Kaye dropped them under.
"Nope, not one of them is good."
"Great, What now?"
"Look around the office...I tell ya what, find me a hanger, there must be one here."
"A hanger, okay."
It didn't take long for Kaye to find one in a wall closet, with a fine suit hanging from it. He admired the suit in a full-length mirror as he passed the hanger to Dan, who came out from under the cabinet.
"What's this?"
"A hanger."
"It's a wooden hanger."
"And?"
"I need a wire hanger."
"In this kind of office? Come on."
"What? Can't you see what I'm trying to do here? This...this is an indestructable filing cabinet. We were set up."
Kaye went back to the mirror.
"What'ya think?"
Dan threw the hanger back at Kaye missing him by an inch.
"Hey!"
"What...shhh! Shut up! What was that?"
"What?"
They both listened.
"I can't hear anything."
Kaye ignored Dan's concern and tried on the suit. Both heard a sudden continuous squeak coming from outside in the corridor.
"Shit!"
They dived for some cover, away from the open office door.
"What do you...?"
"Shhh!"
The squeaking came closer and closer until it finally stopped.
"What...?"
The lights in the corridor flickered on to reveal the source, a little boy chewing gum, sitting on a Big Wheel tricycle.
"What the...!"
Before they could react, the boy turned around and sped back up the now lit corridor.
"Get him!"
37 - Deranged
(Perry Mason, The Lone Ranger, Daisy Duke, The Bionic Woman)
"Kemosabe, me learn of trouble down in town. Me think her say heap big trouble."
"Doctor, what is he saying?"
"I think it's Tonto. Can I see his chart?"
"Yes, doctor."
Nurse Griffin passed Doctor Rhodes the patient's chart for the day.
"No wonder. Who put him on this?"
"Come on, Tonto! We have to save the town from those rustlers. Hi-ho, Silver! Away!"
The patient grabbed an old Halloween mask and sat on a broom, riding it around the corridor.
"Who was that masked man, doctor?"
"Ah-ha, the Lone Ranger. Nurse, where was he sent after lunch?"
"To the usual place, the communal room. I found him in front of the television, flicking through the channels."
"Yeess. This isn't good."
"No, doctor. His acting skills aren't so good."
"Wrong medication, it has certain side-effects, namely hallucinations."
"We gotta get daun there, Uncle Jesse! They're gonna get caught and get thrown in jail!"
"Oh, doctor, this looks serious."
"As serious as they come. 'The Dukes of Hazzard' if I'm not mistaken. And Daisy Duke for that."
"I'm gonna have to shake my ass to get them out. Damn that old Boss Hogg!"
"Not exactly in the right outfit for that, is he, doctor?"
"No...sorry, what?"
The nurse caught the doctor sneaking a look at the flaunting patient.
"Doctor!"
"What did you put in my head?"
"Doctor, I don't recognise this one. Still a woman, I presume."
"Yes. Let me think..."
The patient listened out to a non-existent sound far far away and began to run across the room in slow motion, accompanied by a bionic sound effect.
"Thought so! The 'Six Million Dollar Man'!"
"'Woman', doctor. His moves are bionic but quite feminine."
"Oh, Then it's 'The Bionic Woman'. Never...(cough)...really watched that one...(cough)."
"What did you do to me? You turned me into a soldier!"
"Definitely, the 'Bionic Woman', yes. Jaime Sommers, if I'm...not...mistaken. What?"
"Doctor! I'm astonished! A man of your calibre?"
"Sorry, nurse. Now, to business. Who prescribed him this medication?"
"It says here..."
"It has been suggested that the medication was given by another doctor."
"Why, yes, of course."
The nurse answered the patient's stern question.
"You seem to be an expert on medication, my dear."
"Well, I should be, I've worked as a nurse for more than sixteen years! The cheek!"
"Nurse. He's moved into another character."
"Oh, I see. Sorry, doctor."
"Nurse, you have no objection to our verifying your observation scientifically?"
"Err...?"
"As the defense attorney to the doctor not yet mentioned, I feel it is my duty to inform you that..."
"Perry Mason!"
"Excuse me, doctor?"
"I'm sorry? Are you addressing me, sir?"
"Yes, that's Perry Mason. I liked him better when he was in a wheel-chair."
The patient suddenly broke character and put on a black hat and started smoking a cheap cigar.
"My God! This patient is clearly deranged, nurse. He must be suffering from Chinese Chickenitus or Sadomasochistic Machiavellinism, depending on which self-published author you ask. Quick! Get the tranquillisers!"
38 - A Complete Git
(Roman Merchant Sailing Vessel, flour sack girdle, Bunny, the wonder elephant, The Royal Shakespearian Company)
He's taking off the first side of his cherished vinyl of 'Trout Mask Replica' and flipping it over, threatening to play the other side. Shit!
"But I'm really a Marillion fan."
There's always a reason why someone is an ex-pat living in a city far from home. I think I've just found it.
"Are you a Marillion fan, Dave?"
"Not really, never had the chance to listen to them..." Wrong thing to say! Recovery needed quickly! "I'm a Zappa fan."
"Oh, yes, 'Zappa'. He worked for Beefheart for a while."
"I don't think Zappa ever..."
"Beefheart brought him in as a producer for 'Trout Mask Replica'."
"I think you'll find that Zappa volunteered..."
"Beefheart is a genius. He paints, too."
"Right."
Bookshelves are always a good escape. Wow, there's a whole shelf dedicated to Shakespearea.
"Shakespeare, hey? I've got the 'Complete Works' at the flat."
"Inferior copy. I have every play, with historical notes, references and forewords from the greatest Shakespearean scholars. I used to be in the Royal Shakespearean Company."
And I'm the queen.
"Really? Which roles did you play?"
"Does it matter? Look, I have a whole collection of works, including literary criticisms, the older the better. Do you collect anything?"
"No, I don't. But my Dad does, he's the collector in the family, not me."
"What does he collect?"
"Elephants."
"Elephants? Does he have a big garden?"
"Err..."
"Does he have his own reserve, like that elephant sanctuary in...in Tennessee?"
"Err, no."
"Next you'll be telling me he has the bones of Bunny, the wonder elephant."
"No, he collects elephant sculptures and models."
"Why didn't you say that in the first place?"
"I thought it was obvious."
"Didn't you say your Dad was...American?"
"Yes, I did."
And out comes the smug superior grin of a pure-blood Brit.
"What is an 'American' doing in the UK?"
"He came over with the USAF and decided to stay."
More of that grin, it's turning into a sneer.
"Oh, the airforce? I was in Vietnam."
When the lie's too big...
"Vietnam? That was some time ago. Wouldn't you have been a bit young for that?"
"I lied about my age, I got in as a medic."
"I didn't even know the British were there."
"The Americans weren't there, either. Officially."
Smart arse.
"My Dad was, but only as an aircraft technician. He had to fix some colonel's plane with a bit of cloth and some chewing gum. Got a medal for it."
"I got one, too. I had to keep someone's guts from falling all over the floor."
"Really?"
"Yes, I made a girdle fr
om...a flour sack."
"A flour sack girdle?"
"The doctor said I saved that man's life."
That's enough, I'm off.
"Sorry, I really have to go, got to get the car to the garage."
"A car? Ha! A complete waste of time in this city."
Git.
"I like sailing. For my next summer project I'm building a life-size Roman sailing merchant vessel from banana skins."
Right, that's it.
39 - Like father…
(can of Campbell’s Alphabet Soup, the phrase “Live long and Prosper”, 2000 year old Map of the Earth, empty Snuff Box)
"Why can't he be like other boys of his age, play Angry Birds, or collect football cards?"
Don chased his wife around the house as she put the ironed clothes away to their places.
"Do you really want him to be like all the other boys? That's not the guy I used to know. Whatever happened to the 'my boy will be different' speech?"
They had now moved to the kitchen and were getting the lunch ready. She opened a can of Campbell's Alphabet soup and shared the contents out into three bowls. Don put the first into the microwave and set it off for 1 minute 30 seconds.
"Gone. Especially when he starts collecting every Star Trek collectable he can find, wears those poxy suits everywhere we go and says that stupid phrase 'Live long and prosper' whenever he leaves a room!"
Their son came into the room wearing a red 'guess-who-will-be-killed-in-the-next-scene' Star Trek security guard shirt and a Geordi La Forge VISOR (Visual Instrument and Sensory Organ Replacement) device over his eyes. His mother waited for the microwave to 'ping', took the bowl out, put it on a tray along with a spoon and handed it over to her son. He left the kitchen, but not before…
"Live long and prosper."
"See?"
"So he has some…eccentricities."
"Eccentricities? Eccentricities! That boy needs help. We should call a psychiatrist."
"What? No way, darling, we're not calling a shrink. Our son's just going through a phase, that's all."
"Like the cutting and scribbling phase?"
"That was 10 years ago, Don. Perfectly normal for a five-year-old."
"What, taking my antique globe down from the shelf and scribbling all over my priceless copy of Agrippa's 2,000-year-old Orbis Terrarum which was wrapped around the top? Why couldn't he draw on walls like any other kid?"
"How was he to know that map was priceless? It was your fault for leaving it out like that."
Don slammed his palm on the counter.
"It was five feet up on the top shelf!"
"He's a good climber, isn't he? His P.E. teacher says he's doing well."