By David Stewart

Ah Brother Martin walk with me in the cloisters for a while. Join me in giving thanks to God for another glorious sunny day. Of course in this country most days are rather sunny. Those of us called to serve the Lord in his more far flung lands do tend to enjoy more sunshine than the folk who serve him at home… how long have you been with us here in the mission Brother Martin? Really? That long? Time does fly, it seems like only yesterday you came to join us. You’ve done wonderful things here at the mission, wonderful things. Shame all your good work will probably come to nothing. I’m afraid to say that word has come from the Vatican that we might be shut down. Apparently donations from parishes back home have dried up. We’re not really a very high profile mission it appears and rather out of fashion I’m afraid to say. Yes I know, I was sad to hear the news myself. Deeply saddened. I had a letter from the Abbot at the mission over in M’tongo Bay recently. Apparently they’re getting lots of donations lately. They were struggling as well but one of their brothers was martyred last year and it’s really raised their profile. Done wonders for donations apparently. Well that’s just the way of it. Brother Martin I’ve a job for you if you’d be so kind. We’ve heard the tribe that lives up on the hill are having problems with food so we’d quite like you to go and distribute these loaves and fishes to them. Oh no you must be thinking of another tribe, the ones on the hill aren’t aggressive at all. Quite a passive bunch. Yes that’s true but then perhaps they’ve been involved in more wars than any other tribe because they’re so passive and they get picked on. Any way we’d like you go and give them food. But it’s important that you test their faith so don’t just lay it out in baskets. We thought it would be good if you could throw it. Yes, although not “to them” as much as… “at them”. A test of their faith. Don’t forget they’d consider it rude if you didn’t hit- I mean feed, the most heavily armed ones first. Well then off you go and God be with you Brother Martyr – I mean Martin. Brother Martin.

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By David Stewart

Okay cut! Stop it there everyone. Brian fix the lights and Kevin take that mirror out of the set, you can see the camera reflection and it’s spoiling the illusion. Frank can you come here for a second?

What’s up? Was my performance not subtle enough? I just thought when he kicks me in the bottom I should really grab at my cheeks and then do a funny walk. Is that not -

No that’s fine, really that’s great. I thought it was very funny and I love the way you pull a face and wiggle your mustache in the close up. Funny stuff.

Oh good.

It’s just I think we need something a bit new here. We’ve done kicking in the bottom and chasing around the table rather a lot lately and it might be nice to do something different.

Different?

Yes, something a bit new. Something we haven’t seen before.

Perhaps I could say. “You’re just a big pain in the bottom!” that might be quite a funny line.

Yes, yes, it’s definitely a funny line but there’s one small snag.

What’s that?

Well it’s silent remember? Maybe one day they’ll be able to add sound to movies but until they do we’ll only see your lips move.

Oh I forgot about that. Does that mean I’ve been wasting my time with that funny voice I’ve been using?

To be honest yes.

Oh. Next you’ll be telling me I wasted my time carefully choosing the colour of my bow-tie.

Well it is Black and White.

Pity.

Here’s a radical notion but why doesn’t he push a dessert of some kind into your face?

A dessert?

Yes. A fruit flan of some description. Perhaps a pie with a creamy layer on top.

And he just pushes it into my face?

Yes.

Well it’s definitely original.

I’ve just been thinking about it for a while and I can’t shake the notion that someone having food forcibly pressed into their face is funny. I tried it in my last comedy with a salad but the results weren’t so much funny as… lettucy.

Right.

A plate of roast beef proved equally unamusing I’m afraid to say but I think a dessert of some kind might just be what we’re looking for.

Well I’m willing to give it a go but I have to say I can’t see it catching on.

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By David Stewart

“Gaaa! This damn stapler doesn’t work! Curse you stapler. Curse you to hell and back! Oooh that felt good. Sorry, sorry about that I hope I wasn’t too wrathful just now. I hope the whole “throwing the stapler across the room” thing wasn’t too upsetting, it’s just that I’m trying to be more angry. No no MORE angry. I don’t think I’m angry enough. Or covetous. I don’t covet enough. See it’s all about balance. I read this self-help book called “balancing your life” and it was all about balance. It’s good apparently. The best kind of life has real balance. There was stuff in there about eating and exercising and other things and I skimmed over that when an idea hit me. See I saw an article about the seven deadly sins and realised that it was one area where I wasn’t really balanced at all. Lust and Pride I have pretty much covered thanks to the fact that I’m so proud of my full collection of Playboy DVD’s. I’ve got every one they’ve ever put out. And Sloth I could tick because I spend most weekends lying on a couch watching TV while eating whole tubs of ice cream, which also accounts for Gluttony and Greed. I’ve never really understood the difference but I think an entire tub of Cookies and Cream followed by a Magnum for desert probably covers them both. But Wrath and Envy I don’t really do so I’m trying to be more wrathful and envious. I dedicate half an hour of my day to browsing ebay and shouting violently at things I really want. When I drive to work in the morning I give the finger and pull faces at anyone driving a better car than mine. It’s brought a real state of zen balance to my life. Ooh does your stapler work? I wish I had that stapler and the fact that I don’t MAKES ME REALLY ANGRY! See that felt great. It’s all about balance.”

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By David Stewart

You smug people of today have no idea how easy life is. Back when I was smug I had to work for my self-righteous feeling of superiority. Back then finding a band nobody had heard of took hard work. You had to go to obscure clubs, you had to hang around the cool record shops. We had to search for our street credibility. The only place to buy a band’s T-shirt was at a gig and if you wanted to get your hands on an obscure B-side or demo tape you had to know someone and prove to them that you were smug enough to deserve it. I remember back in the eighties when I was proving everyone I knew was beneath me, I had to really work for it. When I sneered derisively at a guy who listened to something you could hear on commercial radio I earned that sneer through months of hunting around for the music and fan cred that earned me the right to be smug. But today, today you can jump on the internet and within half an hour you can download a band’s entire catalogue including B-sides and live bootlegs. You can order T-shirts from their website and get your smugness delivered straight to your door. Hipsters of today have no idea what being truly smug is all about. You think you’re the cutting edge of smug but let me tell you I was smug back when smug was only available on vinyl.

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By David Stewart

Okay this next slide is one you’ll all be familiar with. It’s just our corporate structure. The CEO at the very top of course and the various departmental heads and staff members arranged in a-

Sorry Brian why is there a badger in our corporate structure?

What do you mean?

Just there below the Deputy Assistant Director of Marketing.

So there is. A badger.

Are you telling me that I’m below a badger?

No of course not. It’s clearly a mistake of some kind.

Perhaps it’s supposed to be a raccoon?

It’s not any woodland animal. It’s a mistake. There’s no badger anywhere in our corporate structure.

Why is there a clown in there as well? Just below the Vice President of Merriment.

We don’t have a clown in our corporation. In fact I’m fairly sure we don’t even have a department called Merriment.

Are you telling me I’m getting paid less than a badger?

No it’s a mistake. They’re both mistakes – the badger and the clown are not supposed to be there.

What about Thor the god of Thunder?

Oh come on! Which idiot put Thor in our corporate structure?

My money’s on the clown. I bet he’s the one who produces our pie charts as well.

I can’t believe someone has been buggering around with our corporate structure. This is a vital document that’s essential to the smooth running of this company and some fool is having fun with it. For the last time we do not employ any badgers or Norse gods, there is no department of merriment and no clowns work anywhere in our corporation! Right, I’m moving on. This next slide is our financial report.

Why are we spending 300 grand a year on balloons?

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By David Stewart

She looked gorgeous. But then she always looked gorgeous. We both entered the lift on the ground floor together which meant I had 37 floors of small talk to be impressive. I always dreamed of exactly this chance. I had a plan: a series of witty one-liners about how stupid Arthur the security guard was. Guaranteed laughs.

The doors were just closing when Greg’s hand came into view. He forced the doors open and stepped inside. He looked cool, tough and masculine. Suave. He looked suave but then he always looked suave. Stupid word. But that’s how he looked.

“I hate lifts,” she said. “They always make me nervous. They just don’t feel safe.”

Greg ran a hand through his thick black hair. “They’re actually amazingly safe. There are three separate cables supporting the lift, any one of which is enough to take it’s weight on it’s own. There’s also two sets of brakes on either side. In the incredibly unlikely event that all three cables snap, any one of the four separate braking systems is enough to slow us down. At the bottom of this shaft there’s a spring-loaded pad designed to absorb shock. We’re safer in here than we are standing on the street.”

She gave him a look. It said she wanted him to take her there in the lift and trusted him completely and thought he was the best thing in the world.

I wanted to be looked at like that.

I cleared my throat: “”Of course what most people don’t consider is if the floor of the lift rusts and gives way there’s nothing between us and a 39 storey drop to our certain death.”

She gave me a very different look.

I hate the word suave. I hate it with a passion.

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By David Stewart

“Hello, excuse me, Man. Hello Man.” He came up to me on the street. He was a funny looking guy. Really pale and sort of greenish. His eyes kept changing colour. His fingers were webbed I couldn’t help but notice. “Excuse me Man. I was wondering if you could explain an aspect of the primitive culture you have on this plane – I mean on this – in this town. The primitive culture you have in this town.” he looked pleased with himself.
“Well I’ll do my best,” I said.
“Stamps. Can you explain to me stamps.”
“Postage stamps?”
“Yes. This is correct. Post-age stamps. Please explain them.”
“Well they’re just little bits of paper. Sticky paper. And they’ve got a picture on them. And you put them on envelopes to send letters to people.”
“And then they can be used again?”
“No. They only get used once.”
He scratched his head in confusion which moved his entire haircut. “So tell me please why some stamps are exchanged for thousands of your earth dollars?”
“Well it’s because they’re rare.”
“Have they become imbued with healing qualities?”
“No.”
“Do they contain the spirits of your dead ancestors and must be maintained in order to preserve a link with the afterlife?”
“No.”
He made a weird sound that I took to indicate frustration. “So you tell me that the only reason the stamps became valuable is because there are few of them?”
“Yeah, that’s about it.”
“Even though they are no longer used for the original purpose?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of odd when you think about it.”
“Odd? Yes this is the earth-word I’m searching for. It is odd that a tiny piece of paper originally sold for a tiny sum can become very valuable merely because all the other similar pieces of paper are no longer accessible. This is odd. I struggle to understand your race.”
“Yeah. If it’s any consolation we don’t really understand ourselves. So where is it you’re -”
“Can you tell me anything about the long-range ballistic defense capabilities of your planet and any early warning systems you may have in place for the detection of invasion forces arriving from other galaxies?”
“Oooh…. no not really I’m afraid. I’m in retail so I tend to be better with marketing analysis to be honest. Intergalactic defense isn’t really my area.”
“No matter. Thankyou earthman. You have been most helpful.”

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By David Stewart

Well this is a predicament. I definitely shouldn’t be here.  I shouldn’t be at Lords full stop. I don’t like cricket. I only came because friends had a spare ticket and I knew Rachel was going so I thought I’d turn up and see how things went. I thought all the people injuring themselves was what normally happened. I didn’t know one person getting carried off the field was unusual let alone seven. Apparently it’s a first for cricket let alone The Ashes, whatever the hell they are.

I should definitely have kept my mouth shut. When they asked if anyone could help out the English team I thought they meant offer some solace to the wounded. And I thought since I’m a fully qualified Reiki practitioner I was just what they needed. I only found out they needed me to play when the put me in these ludicrous white pajamas. Now I’m a substitute fielder whatever that means. Goodness there are lots of people here.

Just stand out there and field, they said. There’s only one ball left anyway they said, which I have to say strikes me as bad planning. I would have thought in a big game like this they’d have brought along more than one ball.

Right so that man there is going to bowl and I’m to stand here and field. Apparently Australia need four runs to win the ashes and we need one wicket to win. But if neither happens it’s a draw. Hopefully the ball won’t come anywhere near me.

Oooh he’s hit it. He’s really hit that rather hard. I think I should probably sprint over there and try and stop that. This will be close but if I dive I could probably cut it off. I wonder which will annoy them more, letting the ball go or getting grass stains on these pants? Nevermind dive… I’ve stopped it. The ball’s stuck in my hand. Goodness what a reception. Everyone is clearly delighted. I’m a hero. This is fantastic! And there’s Rachel in the front row looking ecstatic. I think I’m in with a chance here, I’ll go and get a hug and see if I can… oh dear. They’ve all stopped cheering. In fact they’ve started groaning in disapointment. They didn’t seem too pleased when i stepped over this rope here.

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By David Stewart

“Right everyone we’ll make a start. It’s part of our new School Action Plan to start all staff meetings on time and so we’ll begin and latecomers will just have to read the minutes. First item on the agenda is Tim Simpkins the new boy who started this week in Mrs Wattle’s grade 2/3 composite class. Now I know there are those of you who believe that Tim is too old for the class he’s been placed in but I would like to remind you that he does suffer from a physical disability which makes him look older than he is. And yes I’ve checked his condition does cause the child to grow to a larger than conventional size so the fact that he’s nearly six foot is not- …look Roger I’ve told you before Tim Simpkins is not a full grown man. He’s a child with a disability- …I’m sure because I asked him if he was really a man and he cried. I don’t know about you but I don’t enjoy making young boys cry, even if they are larger than me. No I don’t want to see the newspaper I’m much more interested in moving on to the next item on the agenda. We’ve got a busy schedule…. Yes, you’re right that does look like him. In fact that’s Tim Simpkins without a doubt. What on earth is he doing in The Age? “New Minister for Education promises to see schools first hand.” Are you suggesting the Minister for Education has enrolled his disabled son at our school to- …no. No! No that can’t be right! Although it would explain why he asked to see our curriculum documentation, I remember thinking that was an odd request for an 8 year old.  Are you seriously suggesting that we’ve had the Federal Minister for Education masquerading as a small child in Mrs Wattle’s class? Alright I promise to look into this matter first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll make it my top priority. We’ll move onto item two- apparently there’s a student in the junior classes who is parking his lexus in the staff car park. I’ll deal with that tomorrow as well. Item three- apparently we’re going to have a very important visitor next week- a councillor from the local mayor’s office. …for some reason I’m less excited by that now than I was this morning.”

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By David Stewart

“….in the name of the Father, The Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen… So if the parents and godparents could come around the font. That’s right. Don’t be shy I just do a trickle of water on the forehead, I don’t do full immersion. Or the Slam Dunk as we sometimes call it! Ha ha! There won’t be any splashing so crowd around. Right, so we’re on page 145 if you’re following in your prayer books. Now… By what name are we to baptise this child? …Really? What an original name. Is it? Well fancy that… I’m more of an Inspector Morse fan myself. Well then… Right. In that case… Right… here goes… baptising now… No! No I’m sorry I can’t do it! I can’t baptise a child Ood Sigma Gallifrey Tardis O’brien. I’m sorry I can’t. I don’t care if it is your favourite program it’s a foolish name and all your friend’s think so too, even the ugly one over there in the stupid scarf. It’s ridiculous and I’m not going to besmirch the holy sanctity of baptism with silliness. No I won’t calm down! You come in here with your cameras and your massive mobile phones turning what used to be a solemn occassion into a circus. And we all know you wont come back! We know you’re going to march out of this door and I’ll never see you again unless it’s in a few years from now with some poor unfortunate mite you’ve decided to call Tarzan Marzipan Hogwarts The Tank Engine! Well I’m not going to do this anymore. Why should I sully a sacrement I hold dear for people that are just going to fuck off to a party and never set foot in my church again? I say we just cut to the chase and you bastards can piss off now so I don’t have to spend the rest of my day feeling ashamed of myself. Go on get out! Fuck off out the door before I slam dunk your ipod or whatever you call it. I’ll see you both again in 20 years when little Ood murders you both in your sleep for saddling him with a stupid name for the rest of his life. I’ll gladly perform your funeral free of charge.”

A

By Dave Stewart

When he woke up he found his hands tied behind his back, His feet bound tightly to the chair legs and the woman standing over him. She looked angry and was holding two notepads and a biro.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” she said. “I’ve written the word “bad” on one of these notepads and “good” on the other. I’m going to untie your hands and give you the bad pad and a biro. Then you’re going to write down everything that’s bad for you. Food, drink, exercises everything. Then write everything that’s good for you in the other pad.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Start with Eggs! Fucking eggs! Are they good or bad? I’m sick of you changing your mind all the time. Are eggs good for me or not?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a dietitian. I’m a physicist”

“You’re a scientist! You do science! The papers always say “Scientists say eggs are bad for you” and then they say “Scientists say eggs are good for you” Make up your fucking mind!”

“But scientists never say that. One branch of science releases a comprehensive study about one aspect of something and reaches a series of conclusions. The media then over simplify it and either turn it into an alarmist report or a feel-good one. That’s what they do.”

She broke down and started sobbing. “They’re either good or bad. I need to know.”

“Nothing is that simple. Cigarettes are a relaxant and expectorant. They’re excellent for stress relief it just happens they’re also fatal in large doses. They’re definitely bad but they’re also kind of good.”

“I need it to be simple. Like bananas. Bananas are good, that’s simple.”

“Why are banana’s good for you?”

She looked at him as if he was an idiot. “They’re a good source of potassium. Everyone knows that.”

“And what’s so great about potassium?”

“Well… it’s potassium… it’s good.”

“If you’ve got a kidney disease potassium can be fatal.”

“So… bananas are bad?” She howled a cry of anguish that echoed around the basement.

“No bananas are just bananas. Nature didn’t make them good or bad it just made them.”

“Four things!” She shouted suddenly. “Tell me four things that are definitely absolutely positively good for me! Just four things!”

He thought for a second. “Research, Avoiding oversimplification, understanding how the mainstream media works and releasing kidnapped physicists.”

A

By David Stewart

Kill you? Oh I have no intention of killing you. I rather thought it would be more fun if we played a game. A game with the highest stakes you’ve ever played for in your life!

Before you I have placed five vials of liquid. Five glass containers bearing different beverages, each one unique in its purpose. In a moment you will consume the contents of the vial of your choosing and in so doing decide your own fate!

In one vial I have placed a deadly and painful poison. Drink it and within seconds you will suffer agony so profound that when death arrives it will come as a blessed relief. Another vial contains a powerful narcotic of my own devising. It brings about unbridled joy and euphoria with no harmful side effects except a slight blurring of the vision and an unfortunate but temporary discolouration of the urine. A third vial contains a drug that induces madness and dementia. Fifteen minutes after it’s consumed the unfortunate drinker becomes a raving lunatic prone to visions and the most implausible of fantasies. While the final vial contains a harmless but pleasant tasting liquid. It’s sort of lemony, I had some earlier and found it very refreshing.

What do you mean that’s only four? Poison, drug, madness and lemony… bugger that is only four. And I’ve got five vials. Crap. Hang on I’ve written it down…

Sorry about this I’ve had a lot on lately what with the world domination plans and building this huge base and hiring the staff, I’ve been run off my- Ah here we are, I knew I had it written down… Oh according to this it’s not euphoria its euphonium. That can’t be right. I can’t have invented a liquid that turns you into a euphonium. …And the poison needs work it says here. …And apparently it’s actually the madness inducing drug that has a lemony taste. But it still doesn’t say what the fifth liquid is… wait a minute- I drank the lemony tasting one 15 minutes ago. That means… oooh the fifth vial is turning into my mum! Hello mum, I’ve been become a criminal mastermind! Hooray for me! Oooh pretty vials lets play hide and seek with them. Count to 20 vials! No not twenty- Fifty. No wait count to Zimbabwe. I’m going to hide behind my own legs!

a

By David Stewart

By David Stewart