Friday, 24 March 2017


Jumble Tales | Short stories | 
by Steve Morris |

Oh yes. That felt good. I’d always wanted an opportunity to say that. I never thought I’d get the chance. Actually, I’d half forgotten exactly how it went but when I got into full flow it just flew right off my tongue to destroy the slimy salesman.
That’s the best thing about turning forty. You have just about enough life experience to know how to deal with anything that Lady Luck throws at you and you are still young enough to have the energy to deal with it. In this case, the timing had to be spot-on and the previous question had to be worded in just the right way for it to work. …And it did work. Perfectly.
So I walked away in triumph after having delivered the killer last word. I’d made the salesman look a one-inch-tall imbecile in front of the whole store then I left in triumph. Oh yes, that felt good. The day was to be a good day.

I am pleased to say that the odious Home Secretary had indeed resigned that previous night just before I went to bed. So I could close her file. It was a satisfying job well done. I had slept very well that night at least. But she hadn’t been sleeping at all well recently and she was the second “big name” resignation that week.
Before I tell you about the job we did on her, I’ll tell you about the Transport Secretary and the nice little number we did on him. His was a different “project” altogether, and looking back, my favourite. A horribly smug character of who I was always going to personally enjoy nailing, we dug quite deep but at first couldn’t find an area that we felt that we could work with. Then, one of our guys noted that the Minister had never learned to swim. He may well have had good reason for that. We all can’t have the time to learn everything. However, the further we delved into his background, the more we learned. What we did find out was that the real reason that he never “got around” to learning how to swim was essentially because he had a long-standing chronic phobia about perceived drowning. This had probably been caused by some traumatic childhood incident, which is often the case. He was haunted by nightmares of death by water. So just when he thought all that was behind him and had devoted his adult life to poisoning us all with his vile personal political agenda, we thought it was about time he had a few nightmares about water all over again. We ground him down until he was in no fit state for anything. My team, who are nicknamed “Achilles”, started by making sure that the Minister was placed as near as possible to water as often as we could. We made sure that he was offered lots of opportunities to open swimming pools, was involved with anything involving boats, Jacuzzis, spas and oilrigs. Achilles made sure that everywhere he happened to be literally leaked, that water coolers and bubbling fish tanks were “in his face” day and night. We bombarded him with literature about snorkelling holidays, water-sports and even made him patron of a lifeboat charity. We made sure that subliminal messages got to him round the clock without a break. We tried to get the message through to him in minute detail. I liked the way that one of our people not only got the fire sprinklers set off all over him in a restaurant but also made sure that “World of Water” by “New Musik” was playing back-to-back quietly throughout the meal prior to his deserved soaking. I admire that level of attention to detail. We were all roaring when we heard that someone had organised that one. But then, that is the level of service from “Achilles”. Made my day, that did. You could see the strain in his face as each week our job progressed. It was getting to him.

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