Because You May Get It
Conrad is minded of the horror story "The Monkey's Paw" by one W. Jacobs, which you may be familiar with. I shall outline the story just in case you haven't. The White family, Mum Dad and Herbert, meet up with a retired Army officer who served out in the Raj in India. Amidst his tales is one about a keepsake he has - a shrivelled old monkey's paw, which has been either blessed or cursed, depending on your outlook. Every new owner gets three wishes granted when made holding the monkey's paw. Art!
Ah, but, there is a catch. Since you are bucking reality, reality is going to get back at you. That infinite wealth? Enjoy it for all of twenty-three seconds, because you suffer a fatal heart attack. Endless life? Yes, after you fall into the wet concrete foundations that are built over. The ability to seduce any lady you fancy? Say hello to their homicidal husbands.
You get the idea.
ANYWAY Mister White retrieves the paw from the fireplace, where it had been thrown by their friend, and idly makes a wish for £200, which is just enough to pay off their remaining mortgage (The story was written in 1902, when £200 would have been more like £2000 nowadays.
Surprise! Herbert's mangled and lifeless body is returned to his parents the next day, after he dies in an industrial accident, his employers paying the parents a sum to avoid them suing and as a goodwill gesture.
And the sum? £200 pounds, of course. Art!
Mrs. White, missing her son terribly, foolishly uses the paw to wish that her son returns home. Mr. White is aghast that she makes this wish, because their son has been dead for days, quite besides being horribly mutilated. Then there comes a frenzied banging on the front door ...
He uses the last wish to get rid of what's trying to get in, and opens the door onto - nothing.
Conrad, because he cannot well let a thing alone, considers that these two people have only used three wishes, when they ought to get three each. Or, does the paw 're-set' when simply passed to another person, because in that case they could merely pass it back and forth between each other ad nauseum, couldn't they? Obviously Fate would rain anvils upon their heads were they do so, it's a minor plot point of interest. Could one, perhaps, wish that the wishes did not come with terrible consequences? Or that the terrible consequences be visited upon a complete stranger living in Copenhagen? Art!
 |
| Sorry, Copenhagen |
Keep On Being Careful
Because whilst a woman being scorned might be wrathful, one being cheated upon will crank the temperature up to supernova levels. Enter Max and Original Poster, who had been in a relationship for 5 years, O and here's Amy, OP's best friend since childhood. Art!
They had dogs. That's how serious they were.
Obviously, Max and Amy started an affair, which OP stumbled across. Being creative and vindictive - bad combo, Max - she came up with a plan, which involved seeing Amy and giving details about her and Max having Fun Times, and mentioning to her that Max was thinking of marriage and kids. OP told Max she'd met up with Amy, who was now dating Dave from the office. You see? Creative. She also found and rented a new apartment closer to her work.
First part of the plan involved sending a message from Max' phone to all his contacts, stating that he might be a bit grumpy for the next few weeks as his mistress had passed on an STD to him. Then she changed the password.
She got her things and left for the new apartment, where she proceeded to upload to Facebook all their cheaty texts. This led to Max's mother changing her will; instead of him inheriting her (large and profitable) business, his brother will. Max, Max, Max, I'll bet you were mad with a capital 'M'.
It gets worse. OP's gossipy old neighbour, Martha, kept OP in the loop. Amy moved into the apartment, where she and Max fought constantly, because neither trusted the other - cheaters might cheat. Personally Amy had zero household skills, whilst Max was a neat freak, another source of conflict. Martha, who liked to create drama even more than reporting it, would torment Amy with chat about Max's attractive 'sister' coming over a lot more now that OP was gone.
It gets worse. The lies from Martha led to a full-on screaming match, where Max's harping on about what a mistake he'd made led to Amy trying to brain him with anything she could throw. The police were called. Martha - what a trouper!- comes out and further winds up Amy, who ends up getting 1) Tazed and 2) Arrested. Boy, Amy, this relationship you wanted isn't working out, is it? Art!
She is escorted back to the apartment by cops to get her stuff, as Max had taken out a restraining order against her. Then she left the state to get away from her prior circle of friends.
See? Be careful.
"The Sea Of Sand"
Albert has just declared he can fly an aircraft, if it's a single-engined one, with a few hours to practice, in what's a bit of deus ex machina on the author's part if you ask me.
‘You never told me that!’
exclaimed a surprised Professor Templeman.
‘Ah,
they wouldn’t let me carry on to become a dashing RAF pilot. Perforated ear-drum. Good thing for me, or I’d probably not be
here now. Still, I reckon I could fly a
single-engine job with a few hours to practice.’
‘How
does your porcupine of a bomb work, Doctor Smith?’ asked Roger.
‘If
an electrical current is applied to this wired cartridge, all two hundred and
sixteen cartridges will fire at once.
That produces reasonably uniform detonation of the inner cordite liner,
which creates a spherical implosion that forces the fissile core into a
supercritical mass thanks to velocity of displacement.’
Roger
looked sideways at Sarah, who shrugged and nodded.
‘Ah. Right.’
‘That
is, if everything works properly in
sequence.’
Davey
asked more questions.
‘Why
don’t they have any aircraft?’
The
Doctor shrugged. He didn’t know for
certain, so he took his best guess.
‘Lack
of metals, timber or fabric for building them.
No fuel to power them, no avian wildlife to emulate. There may have been birds on Wasteworld at
one time, millenia ago. Of course they
died when their habitats were consumed, or they were directly consumed by the
bio-vores.’
That
brought a tug of memory to his mind.
Lord Boasting Fuhrer Sur, that bloated pompous windbag, seemed familiar
with flying creatures. Odd, considering
–
Hmmmm that's a Chekhov's Gun if ever I read one.
There's A Joke In Here Somewhere
A news headline sidebar on the BBC website caught Your Humble Scribe's attention, and it would catch yours, too, if you'd read it. Art!
Mars Wrigley factory fined after two workers fall into chocolate vat
The article doesn't say how deep the chocolate mix was and Conrad is unsure if you can either swim or tread water in liquid chocolate. A hole needed to be cut in the tank to evacuate both men and one ended up in hospital. Don't worry, mate, with a story like this you will be able to dine out on it for years.
Note lack of terrible puns in this item.
Finally -
Wow, the weather really picked up this afternoon, I've just spent nearly an hour reading Sherlock Holmes sitting in the backyard. Go me!
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