Vladjek Mislovic wasn't completely sure whether or not it was best practice to be talking about his schlapta in the middle of the road on the middle of The Bridge in daylight hours with a perfect stranger. Vladjec already considered it a feat of mind-over-matter that he had reached this point at all. This point in his life. This point in the road……on The Bridge. This point in a pointless world. Where it turned out that being pointless was perhaps the most point-full thing he had achieved. And yet none of this had been discussed at immigrant integration class. No side notes about schlaptas or the pointlessness of being perfect. No road map to disillusion. No GPS for the befuddled mind.
So whilst Vladjek was still seeking his most recent position he felt inclined to humour this Polonium because she seemed quite keen and had something to offer. A unique opportunity perhaps.
And yet, what to do about his other soulless impulse, to shuffle quietly if not symmetrically to the other side, to fire up the strategically placed weapon. And perform his patriotic duty.
He was drawn to Polonium.
And yet he was also drawn to the grassy knoll.
And then, in a unique and bizarre display of extraordinary physiological aberration, his left leg and his right leg chose different paths of action.
And had it not been for the direct CCTV feed to Spunmedia, the world might never have witnessed what happened next.
What happened next didn't of course actually happen next. Firstly there were quite few occurrences of people taking too many prescription drugs in lifts. Also quite a few occurrences of people in lifts taking too many selfies. And one specific occurrence where one individual tried all three at the same time. All of these things didn't only actually happen before the thing that happened next but they also did actually happen.
Fact.
And yet when the face recognition re-alignment software kicked in because the CCTV camera had, for the first time in 14 months, finally found someone it didn't recognise, there was no way to stop the impossible from becoming the probable from becoming the inevitable to finally settling down as the comfortably factual. And all of that in about 22 milliseconds.
So when that less developed splitside personality trait manifested itself physically, albeit ever so temporarily, the Spunmedia version of Vladjek Mislovic, quite literally split in two. One half remaining with Polonium. The other half driven towards the grassy knoll. And although his clothes were rent biblically asunder from top to toe, the screen area which might have given insight into which destination his schlapta had chosen, was of course thoroughly de-pixelated as per health and safety rule 540.16.C which stipulates that "offensive material cannot be uploaded to Spunmedia".
Somewhat curiously and visa-vie nothing much at all, there was currently a court case pending which debated the validity of this rule. Specifically it centred around the fact that offensive material actually can be uploaded, but someone somewhere at Spunmedia just probably didn't want us to do it. In several other court cases similar semantic discussions were taking place debating whether classing a schlapta as offensive was somehow unconstitutional and discriminating on the basis of race, religion and sex and finally whether or not Spunmedia had deliberately worded their rules ambiguously to provoke court cases, articles and all the associated free publicity it could generate.
So what really really really did happen next, is something that won't be traceable in any report feed at all and indeed may never find it's way to history channels anywhere. Polonium and Vladjec part-exchanged mobile phone numbers. This was quite similar to wholly exchanging phone numbers except for the part where Vladjec gave Polonium his number. Which he didn’t. Because he didn't have one. Instead he said just six words to Polonium. Six words that made Polonium smile like she'd never smiled before. Six words that would change everything. For ever.
“Kill your husband. Save the world.”
to be continued.........
No comments:
Post a Comment