Jan 20th – A braver attempt had never before been seen

January 20th – A braver attempt had never before been seen

20.20-20.30

“Well, that is quite remarkable. I don’t think we’ve ever seen a braver attempt than that before, have we, Brian?”

“No, Mike, we haven’t. A lot of credit needs to go to the young man. He was definitely brave. Foolish, as well, maybe, wouldn’t you say?”

“I certainly would, Brian. Let’s have a look at the replay.”

A cut to a familiar scene. A street, at night, it could be anywhere, under the slightly grainy lens of multiple CCTV cameras, offering different angles. The main camera shows what appears to be a club, a queue outside. It appears to be winter: the prospective clientele, roughly between 20 and 40 years old, male and female, are wearing coats. It is clearly not Newcastle.

Cut to another camera, giving a side on view from further down the same street. A young man, probably in his early twenties, wearing jeans and a light jacket is running. The action is slowed down, but his movements are clearly those of someone travelling at some speed.

“Here he comes, Mike. Let’s have a look at this again.”

A cut to the main camera, facing the door, as the young man comes into view. He slows his run slightly as he approaches the door.

“You’ve got to admire his tactics, Brian. Look at the way he goes straight for the door.”

“No queue for our young hero, Mike.”

The main camera, again, shows the young man at the door of the club. The camera zooms in on the doorway, cutting out the queue, but giving sharp focus on the face of the doorman, who holds out his arm. We can see his mouth moving, but the footage is silent.

“What do you think he’s saying, Mike?”

“Well, Brian, it’s hard to be certain, but at a guess I would say that the bouncer is probably refusing the young man entry, and probably suggesting that he would be better off joining the queue like the rest of them.”

The young man appears to remain in place. The camera only shows the back of his head, until the footage cuts to another camera, positioned on a diagonal somewhere in the same street. The camera zooms in on the young man’s face: he is clearly shouting.

“Now this is where it gets good.”

The young man takes a few steps back then runs at the door. The action is slowed to a very low frame rate as he leaves the ground, and leaps at the bouncer. We see the bouncer raise both arms, and in a fluid movement catches, and then throws the young man back in the direction from which he approached the door. Still in the same frame rate we see the young man flail his arms, desperately searching for a grip on something, before landing awkwardly just beyond the kerb and rolling into the road. The bouncer walks towards him, and can be seen to say something before returning to his position at the door.

“Mike, I’m sure you’ll agree that this was a truly exceptional effort.”

“Truly exceptional, Brian. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

 

Inspired by a prompt from here.

It was a ludicrous request but one that drew his attention

o-showaddywaddy-570

“You want us to do what?” he said.

He had quite happily been sitting there, minding his own business, lost in his own little world of procrastination, typing random words into Wikipedia, instead of getting on with the mundane work that he should have been doing, when he heard the request. Well, he didn’t hear it as such, as he never listened and due to deafness in one ear, rarely heard anything unless he concentrated on listening and tilted his head and pointed his good ear in the right direction.

It was a ludicrous request but one that drew his attention, and it penetrated his deafness and general aloofness due to the absolute absurdness of it, which is why he piped up and asked for it to be repeated. Well, he had heard correctly, despite his dodgy right ear and general lack of concentration, and it was indeed a very daft thing to ask anybody to do, let alone a whole department, especially as each one of them was as lazy and lackadaisical as the other.

Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at each other in disbelief, heads turning this way and that, as they searched each other’s blank expressions hoping to make some sense of the preposterous request by scanning the faces of those nearest to them, each waiting for someone else to make the first move, either too scared or too selfish to take the lead.

Well, someone had to go first, and as he was the only one to open his mouth and say something, all eyes eventually turned to him. He could feel his ears turning red under the scrutiny of twenty co-workers, one goldfish, and a poster of Shawaddywaddy that had been glued to the wall by an unknown prankster the Christmas before last (nobody really cared who had done it), staring at him.

Slowly, he rose from his chair and stepped away from his desk, looked nervously around him, then with growing confidence headed towards the open space in the middle of the office, one by one, the rest of them stood up and started to follow him.

Just then the fire alarm went off and they all calmly made their way outside to stand in the pouring rain and watch the building burn instead.

Prompted by this page

It was a ludicrous request but one that drew his attention – Dead Deer

Simple Request

“I’ve seen some things down there ove the years, but honestly? Nothing like this. The summer before last it was, and of course I’d heard the rumours: everyone has. But I dismissed it as foolish kids, or maybe some clever tourist marketing ploy. But, there we were, just casting off, when I heard this tiny voice.”

They had heard so many tall tales before, so many of his tall tales, that the could barely be bothered to interject, but she could not resist this one.

“Small?” she said eyes wide, “a tiny voice?”

“Well, low, you know?” He hesistantingly replied. “Not tiny, as such, just a figure of speech. Anyway the sun was beating down, we were looking forward to a day on the water, and again this voice. A gruff voice.”

Can a voice be both gruff and tiny she wondered. She switched off and let him drone on.

“I looked around, and guess what it was, standing there, as real as you and talking to me? Have a guess, you’ll never ever guess.”

How could he think no one could guess? Here of all places?

“Tell me, I hate guessing games.”

“No, go on, just three guesses, and the next round is on me if you get it!”

“Ok, ok. Was it … um ….. was it a pig at all?” she stuttered, innocently

His face fell and he looked from one to another, crestfallen.

“Well yes, but how? But, how could you guess?”

“They escape from the farm, didn’t you know. Very friendly, but a little shy. They just want to sail. Is that such a ludicrous request? Seriously? I hope you didn’t just stare? I hope you took them out?”

“Well, er, well, no.” he spluttered, his fat pink cheeks wobbling side to side, “I mean, well, its my boat, isn’t it?”. He looked down at his groaning plate and began to eat, self-satisfied noises making the others long for the tranquillity and culture of a porcine companion instead of this over-fed selfish bore.

Today I wrote from 08:56 to 09:06. I was prompted by idea   here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, and my tweets here