A level playing field
Despite a comprehensive course of liquorice allsorts my testosterone levels continue to increase. This manifests itself in extra hairy eye brow hair and small yellow facial spots. All very annoying and slightly distracting for members of the public. In desperation I called upon the kangaroo god to see if there was anything he could do to help my condition. I figured he’d be free, as the process of creation seemed to have settled down now with only the occasional mild explosion occurring from time to time.
The trouble with gods is that the can be a little hard to contact at times, they may require rituals or complex communication procedures of some kind (even sacrifices) or they may be just plain indifferent about the issue you want them to deal with. There are many other reasons why they don’t engage with their people but I can’t be bothered to list them.
Anyway the kangaroo god is beginning to appear to me to a bit like some kind of character out of the Simpsons. Moody, unpredictable, hostile at times and to some extent preoccupied with himself. I guess that much of this is due to the way that the Cinderellas have continued on in worshiping him (generally speaking for doing nothing useful or measurable) when I don’t think he really deserves it. There is no easy way to have a rational chat with the Cinderellas about why they worship him, they just get emotional, stamp their feet and go into a silent huff at even the hint of any kind of disagreement over what they do.
So while the Cinderellas tried to maintain some control over things with their ultimate threat of some “silent treatment”, I decided to pop around to kangaroo god’s office for an impromptu visit. When I got there and after quite a difficult journey I may add, I found that he’d gone out to lunch. I couldn’t resist a wee peek around his office and at the things and papers on his desk. Generally in the universe things seemed to ticking over nicely albeit a few laws needed some minor editorial work. I had a quick read of a few papers but didn’t try to dig for anything. I was a bit worried that one of his minders might arrive but I knew that security had never been his strong point. One of the weaknesses of his regime was that way that people kept stealing his material, second guessing his initiatives and at times making him look silly with their “superior knowledge” and apparent anticipation of planned universal events.
One paper did catch my eye however, I read with great interest how apparently low-value property in the Balkans, the Middle East and the Indian Sub-continent was being acquired by one of the kangaroo god’s business partners for “development”. Just as I was getting to the juicy part in walked the minister complete with his black saxophone case and music stand. His wife trailed along a few yards behind puffing, wheezing and complaining. “Have you an appointment?” the minister asked me. “Well no, but I do have a complaint” I answered. “I think” said the minister, “you’ll find that kangaroo god has a full schedule for the afternoon, the Cinderellas all have appointments and he has important documents to sign. Good afternoon!”
I seems my face does not fit around here anymore. I retired to a nearby park bench and watched as kangaroo god came back from lunch in his stretched Hummer, complete with solar panels. The Cinderellas began a clumsy worship dance whilst submitting requests for new furniture and the minister played exerts from Carla Bley’s “Escalator over the hill” on his golden saxophone. Suddenly and for no reason I felt alone in this predominately black and dark universe.
Editor’s note: This material has slipped in from the Fairytale Management pages. A thread or a splinter may emerge from there at some point in the future.