From World Domination to Pottery Frogs. by Winthrop Murray
1 June 2023 { Comedy }
From World Domination to Pottery Frogs.
A little fury spider hung from a thread in the top left hand corner of the hospital delivery room. He wore tiny spectacles, a little set of scrubs and four pairs of disposable gloves, no, scratch that. This is way too serious a story to pepper it with supposedly humorous anthropomorphic vignettes.
Reginald was a serious spider.
He had managed to avoid being crushed by the disinfected extendable mops and feather dusters that sometimes swished and sloshed the far most reaches of the hospital ceiling. He was too fast for them and deftly nipped inside the strip light cover to escape, though his web was nearly always destroyed which meant many hours of painstaking reconstruction. He was an observant arachnid noticing all the events that occurred beneath him. He saw that the corridors were freshly painted whenever VIPs visited even though the budget didn't allow for such a thing. He even read the memo to all staff proclaiming that it was a disciplinary offence to suggest the recent painting of the corridors was due to the upcoming visit of Her Majesty The Queen despite them being undecorated for nigh on twenty years. He was glad he was a self employed spider and not subject to the rules and regulations of the permanent NHS staff.
Today began as every other day, Reginald observed babies being born one after the other rather like a factory conveyer belt. There was nothing out of the ordinary until about 2pm when a lady was wheeled in to the room. There were a lot of worried faces and an unusually high level of activity until the child was safely delivered. A storm had been brewing all day and just as the baby plopped out into the midwife's hands there was an enormous flash of lightning and a crack of thunder which knocked out all the lights. A generator must have automatically kicked in as the lights soon came back on and all the bleeps, flashes and warning tones returned to fill the quietened room once again. The tiny baby was taken into an anteroom to be cleaned up and the new mother was attended to, eventually leaning back into her cushions to recover. There was a bit of a commotion from the small side room and whispered voices could be heard.
"There is no such thing as an ugly baby nurse" admonished the midwife picking up the child and taking a peep inside the bundle. "Every child is beautiful in God's eye-eye-eyes" exclaimed the midwife, stumbling backwards "Oh Sweet Mother Mary and all the Angels, well there's a face only a mother could love."
There followed a bit of shuffling and banging of cupboards as a few phrases drifted up to Reginald dangling from the ceiling.
"You show her"
"No you show her"
"You do it, you're the mid-wife!"
Eventually the midwife came back into the room carrying the precious little bundle.
"Now here he is Mrs Davies, a bonny baby boy, 6lbs7oz. I'll just pass him over to you; put your hand under his head, yes that's right. Oh don't worry about that Mrs Davies it's just the soft bones of the skull which allow baby through the birth canal, they'll soon settle down and his head will have a more normal shape. Oh yes, the black hairs? We'll they'll drop off, it’s quite common, though I've never seen them all over the body before, and so thick, but it's nothing to worry about, honestly. Well yes his jaw is a little misshapen I think it's just been bashed around a bit in the trauma of birth. Yes it is unusual to have over bite and under bite in the same mouth but again I'm sure it will sort itself out as he develops. Oh his sticky out ears? Well he'll just have to get used to being called 'wing nut' at school" chortled the midwife "Children will be children."
Mrs Susan Davies and baby were wheeled into a ward and left alone to recover. She slept lightly with one ear listening out for the baby until eventually she was awoken by the ward nurse saying,
"The baby's father is here to see you. I'll just show him in shall I?"
"Yes that's fine."
A nervous looking young man sidled into the room.
"It's alright Noah, come and take a look, he won't bite you. I‘m going to call him Damian."
Noah was the father. It had been a drunken one night stand and Susan had told him he didn't need to be involved if he didn't want to, so she was pleasantly surprised to see him. Noah was still a child himself, for goodness sake he still referred to his scrambled eggs as teddy bear's chucky egg, he really wasn't ready for the responsibility of fatherhood. He'd arrived at the hospital on his skateboard and zig zagged along the corridors to the maternity ward. He was there out of curiosity but did have an embryonic feeling that he may want to be involved in the child's life. He leaned over the crib at the end of the bed and gazed into the face of the slumbering child. He let out a sort of strangled snort, said "I'm off" and was never seen again.
***
Single parenthood had been tricky for Susan, money was tight but they’d managed. Damien wanted for nothing. Over the years Susan been called into school several times usually it was because Damian had been bullying some younger child and once he'd stolen money from the headmaster's office but things had normally been sorted. As he grew he withdrew more and more into his bedroom and his gaming station which his mother had worked long hours to save up for. All went quite smoothly until one day some of his equipment failed, he was desperate to get it repaired or a replacement found. Luckily he’d kept the guarantee so he mithered his mother to drive into town after work and sort it out for him. She successfully sourced a replacement but unfortunately was involved in a terrible car accident on the way home. The ambulances came but it was too late. Susan died leaving her nineteen year old son all alone with no father on the scene; he was left to sort everything out on his own. He managed to remain in the house where he spent more and more time gaming and visiting the dark web.
***
Damian looked after himself for the next ten years, he had no mother or father left to guide him so unfortunately he learned mainly from the dark web and his views became more extreme.
He studied Psychology and Criminology and was fascinated by the ego and its effect on peoples lives. On his thirtieth birthday he felt he was ready to launch his first business. He wanted to own a company run by staff who had a similar ideology to him. An independent observer would say that meant self obsessed people; individuals with no empathy for others who only thought of themselves; people who thought charity begins at home...and should stay there. He felt that these types of people would make for efficient, successful and ruthless businessmen. Once gathered together he could use them to build an empire and maybe even a political party. He managed to find almost thirty volunteers from the dark web. Their job was to go out into the world and recruit like-minded individuals from all parts of society. The volunteers were each issued with business cards which included a personal invite to a recruitment day.
After a preliminary workshop with the volunteers it was decided to target people who weren't criminals as such but could be ruthless and underhand in business. The volunteers were given the following advice to target people in specific situations.
Area I
Go to court cases and read newspaper stories about people who are consistently charged with speeding. Not the 'one offs' but the regular ones who feel their own right to speed is more important than the innocent victims of any accidents caused.
Area II
Seek out persistent car park tickets offenders again not the occasional ones but the persistent ones who believe that they or their business is above the law. Those who earn so much money that they see the fines as insignificant and believe the law doesn't apply to them, just to the 'plebs'.
Area III
Research neighbour disputes when cases end up in court and are dragged out for months spending huge amounts of money just to say 'I was right.' Even though the court costs may bankrupt one or both of the neighbours. Target the people who won’t back down regardless of the outcome.
Area IV
Seek out people who push in at queues at supermarkets. People who park on hatched safety areas because they’re too lazy to waddle to the entrance from any further away. People who stand tutting or sighing when having to wait behind elderly or disabled customers who may be slower to serve. People who refuse to return their trolley to the trolley park.
Area V
Those who pretend to move into a catchment area for a particular school they want their children to attend, using false addresses, second homes or short rents to get their way.
Area VI
People who use bad behaviour to get their own way, could be threatening, overly pushy or sometimes stroppy behaviour which are all just types of bullying.
The handing out of business cards went well and the day of the recruitment show soon arrived. Damian was happy as all 500 places had been taken and he was ready to take his first step on the ladder of success.
He probably should have realised that the early signs weren't good. As the attendees starting arriving on the morning of the recruitment day there were immediate problems in the car park. Several fights broke out. Two elderly ladies tried to get into the same parking spot and started fighting, each one claiming they saw it first. As this happened another attendee was berating a driver of a huge SUV that had blocked in his car. He asked him to move it as he may need to get away early, but he refused and the resulting slanging match could be heard on the other side of town. There had also been a couple of minor bumps resulting in more rows. One car had parked too near another and the driver was trapped in the driver’s seat, he was shouting for help and honking his horn. Eventually the police were called and the peace restored, everyone grumpily moved inside.
Thanks to the kafuffle outside, the meeting began twenty minutes late which annoyed many of the more impatient delegates. As it started, several hands were immediately raised with questions. Damian was glad to see their enthusiasm and tried to ask that all questions were left to the end. However some demanded to be heard straight away so Damien allowed them to speak.
"Can you tell this big fat apeth in front of me that I can't see a blind thing and could he stop moving round in his seat so much. Or even better just sit at the back where normal sized people won't be disturbed."
"Who are you calling a fat apeth?"
Damian dispatched a volunteer to try and sort out each problem as it arose.
"Can you tell this person I had reserved this seat, I clearly put my scarf on the back of the chair while I went to the toilet"
"Tough mate, you left the seat empty, I took it, it's Karma innit?"
Another volunteer was dispatched.
"Sorry, I hate to say this but the person next to me has terrible BO, can you please ask them to move because it’s just unbearable?"
"How dare you! You want a good kicking you do"
"Well you want a wash!"
Each time a problem arose a volunteer was dispatched to try and quietly sort out the dispute. At one point there was a distinct possibility that they would run out of spare volunteers.
During the break there was a long queue and a terrible smell coming from the toilets. Apparently some people had pocketed all the toilet rolls and toiletries leaving the room looking like the latrines hastily set up after an earthquake. Everyone grumbled and complained loudly.
The meeting limped on to lunchtime where certain individuals stole half the free food and others formed a short queue to complain about the standard of buffet provided. The food ran out so people were getting drunk on the free wine.
The second half continued in much the same vein. Damian hardly got to speak and what he did say came over as rather scrambled and disjointed. Eventually the long day came to an end. People heckled,
"What a waste of a day"
"We want compensation; it's all been a waste of time. You completely mislead us"
"What a farce!"
The crowd emptied into the car park where the car park disputes reignited and fights broke out. There were scuffles, threats, fisticuffs and general public disorder. Damian closed the conference centre doors leaving the commotion raging outside. He was disillusioned and heavily out of pocket.
Outside there was more blood spilled and cars damaged. Luckily, in the conference hall next door there was a Volunteer's Day; celebrating and rewarding the various voluntary groups in the community. Fortunately they heard the commotion and came running out to see if they could help. Soon there were boy scouts sorting out the car parking problems, members from the St John's Ambulance came out with their first aid skills and patched up the bleeding and splinted the broken bones. The army volunteer drivers took the injured to the Hospital. Several conflict resolution counsellors came out and talked to people to help quell the arguments until eventually all was quiet and the car park was empty again.
Damian sat in the empty conference hall with his head in his hands. All his plans had come to nothing, the tears flowed and he was enveloped by a deep sense of failure.
***
Six months later Damian moved to one of the islands that make up the Outer Hebrides where he took up photography and began making and selling pottery frogs. Humanity was relieved that he was now living on a far off island where he couldn’t do any damage. Or could he?
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