Woof !

An informal yet elaborate tea is in progress. Goddie is playing host to Bugger and his smelly socks.

Goddie: Thank you so much for coming.

Bugger: Why, thank you dear. I couldn’t have avoided it seeing that it’s my balcony and my crockery.

Goddie: Of course, the tea is just an excuse. I wanted to discuss a matter of utmost importance with you.

Bugger: Now don’t you start that oath-taking bullshit again. I’m not –

Goddie: Sometimes I seriously feel you shouldn’t have been inducted so soon.

Bugger (speaking rapidly): That is a purely malicious and personal opinion of yours, probably prompted by my callous use of –

Goddie: . Prompted probably, if you please. We are intellectuals -

Bugger: Meaning we are actually intelligent.

Goddie: The cream of society –

Bugger: That floats on top and sticks to the side.

Goddie: And we have a right to look down upon those that are considerably thinner –

Bugger: The skimmed ones, that is –

Goddie: In intellect. We have silent authority over the have-nots in the brain equation.

Bugger: We can whip, strip and search, arrest and sentence to death the dumb. All in the wonderfully graphic imagination of our beautiful brains.

Goddie: We shall be rich. We shall have the reins of the world in our hands -

Bugger: These creamy, 10-digit, delicate limbs.

Goddie: And the world will be a brainy garden -

Bugger: Where intellectuals meet intellectuals and have proper teas.

Goddie: In borrowed crockery -

Bugger: And stolen underwear.

Goddie: There! It wasn’t difficult, was it?

Bugger: You lured me into taking that oath again.

Goddie: We do things with precision and order. But just between us, I am afraid we have a slight problem on our hands.

Bugger: Ah. The matter of utmost importance.

Goddie: We need more stuff.

Bugger: Stuff. Material. Of tangibility and tangibleness. Matter as proposed by Democritus the Ionian –

Goddie: I mean, look at us. Put together, we have enough gray matter to plunge the world in darkness by dazzling it with our brilliance. But where does it show? When was the last time we put forth some stuff -

Bugger: Stuff. Redefined as something you can see, smell, touch, hear, taste. The more the better. In sharp contrast to Plato's vision of the ephemeral nature of ideas -

Goddie: That we could sell….?

Bugger: Money. Cash. (Also see: bucks). I need to buy razors. My beard is starting to get in the way when I relieve myself.

Goddie: Bluntly put, we are stuck. We need to show the world we are to be taken seriously as the frontrunners of the 837^th revolution in the history of this earth.

Bugger: 837.57^th, if I remember correctly. There are many 0.2ths and 0.01ths of revolutions scattered around, even if we ignore 0.0001ths and beyond – the likes of liposuction and personalized shoelace knot-makers.

Goddie: There seems to be a flood of ideas but a draught of 'stuffable' ideas.

Bugger: Ideas pregnant with little infant stuffs that will bring joy.

Goddie: Not a single contribution of slightest merit since that gentleman from Peru proposed herbal nailpaint removers made from llama droppings.

Bugger: As it turned out Chanel uses something similar. A pity, really. There was a fortune -

Goddie: But is no more. So what do we do?

Bugger: I had a feeling you’d discuss this so I brought along a list of potential stuffs and also ideas from the past that weren’t stuffed enough. Maybe we can glean –

Goddie: Excellent. Let’s see…

Bugger (reading): Shampoo for your favorite spiders…nah, we dumped this early on…sprinklers with sneeze activation…lavatory grip for three-fingered invalids…water bottles for the lipless…ultra-slow hair remover…all taken. Damn. We should have picked up that last one right then. It’s –

Goddie: Sshh..

Bugger: 'Sshh' being an indication that we still have air –

Goddie: No, WAIT! Your socks just said something.

Bugger (sniffing): They want out.

Goddie: There! You hear that? That was a definite “grmph”.

He pauses, takes a couple of deliberate sips of his tea. They exchange looks of profound realizations.

Goddie: Let’s check if there’s a sound like that discovered before.

Bugger: I will be darned if there is. And the socks could do with some darning, too.

Goddie: Do you even realize the implication of this?

He starts tapping on his PDA.

Goddie: We are going to be rich! And then the world shall know –

Bugger: That I haven’t forgotten how to shave –

Goddie: And we will usher in the biggest and possibly the shapeliest cultural and scientific paradigm since Angelina Jolie…. There.... Cheers! I have confirmed that there is no existing claim or even knowledge about the specific sound “grmph” originating from some internal disturbances in a pair of socks. There is a report from Wigan in UK about occasional “grrrhmp”s, but they have been conclusively proved to be emanating from the abdomen.

Bugger: It’d be worthwhile to –

Goddie: FILE IT !!!

Bugger: Uh, but they are my last –

Goddie: NOW !!!

Bugger pulls out an iron file and saws his socks into little shreds cheered on by maniacal laughter from Goddie.

Bugger: When will we get the money?

Goddie: Very soon, I should think.

A stuffable pause.

Goddie: Of course, the matter of utmost importance was just an excuse. I just wanted to have tea with you.

Bugger (whining): A proper tea. But my socks…

Goddie: Sacrifices on the altar of intellectual progression. Martyrs to the cause of liberation of mankind.

Bugger: You bastard.

Goddie on Wednesday, May 16, 2007 at 6:20 PM | Permalink