Funny Short Stories
Diligent Dayv, Postman to President!
The archives of The Wogan Institute for Penetrating Sociological Insight and High Fat Diets on Planet Donut reveal this surprising tale of the evolution of The People's Republic of Haili Improbabull. (With thanks to Roland T. Tramp (editor) and Honda Prelude (research)).
After what felt like 7,000,000 orbits of the sunne around their world, (which, in common with most worlds, they named The Centre of the Universe) but was really a mere 333, the people of Haili Improbabull became so disaffected, disappointed, disinterested and generally dissed off by the succession of bright-eyed new emperors who, without exception became bitter, dictatorial and of questionable morals that they spontaneously began a campaign to elect Dayv. Dayv, the non-politician.
It was either that or dismiss the failed emperor by disarming, disembowelling, dissecting and desiccating (without discrimination, of course). The disembowelling quite appealed to the Haili-Improbabulloids, but they loathed the Pinks for perpetrating such acts of vengeance so they felt they'd better give it a miss this time.
Dayv had been minding his own business, and wasn't even very diligent about that, whilst concentrating on his paid employment as a diligent daily deliverer of parcels and letters to people in his village (by bike and on foot). Suddenly fame came to call.
In an absent-minded moment he phoned the local radio station. The reason is, you see, they made light entertainment by offering ten Haili Improbabull d'lahs to the first person out of the hat (really a computer program developed by the MicroLimp Corporation ™) to correctly name the day of the week.
The snag was, they tried to get their full ten d'lahs worth by subsequently asking the winner for their views about the problem of the Pinks (who were taking all the jobs), where he was going on holiday, the other problem of the Pinks (who wouldn't work) and such like.
Diligent Dayv, being notoriously honest and very happy in his job replied 'I don't know' to every question, and this caught the popular imagination.
Those who knew Dayv well would vouch for the fact that in his daily life he always did this.
The popular imagination, an invisible though fearsomely powerful beast, was positively ignited, inflamed and incandescent when Diligent Dayv phoned the radio station again, on the following day, with considered answers to all the questions.
Honda Prelude reveals that the 'We Want Dayv' movement began within a few days of his radio interview. A presidential election was forced within six moons and Diligent Dayv, daily deliverer of mail, became President Dayv, Temporary Emperor of The People's Republic of Haili Improbabull. The 'temporary' tag was added to the title at Dayv's insistence because he'd seen what happened to all the previous president/emperors.
Dayv hadn't been in the job long before Pursi Prattlehume came knocking on his door, bearing a petition with five signatures. FIVE! The petition was reinforced by several letters and emails, all from P. Prattlehume esq. (p.prattlehume@Pmail.com).
The reason for Pursi Prattlehume's agitation was the arrival in The People's Republic of Haili Improbabull of several Pinks (natives of The People's Republic of Pinkness) who had trekked all the way to Haili Improbabull for the chance of stacking shelves at Teskos ™ or personning the telephones at MicroLimp ™. MicroLimp ™ had exported many jobs to Haili Improbabull following the devaluation of the Haili Improbabull d'Lah, and international calls became dirt cheap with dogband (it's like ADSL broadband, but even cheaper).
'What are you going to do about the Pinks taking all our jobs?' demanded Pursi. His eyes were wild, foam was evident in the corners of his mouth (it didn't fleck) and he pointed a finger at Dayv in precisely the orientation that made it most easy to dislocate or break, should the pointee feel so inclined.
Dayv didn't know.
'I don't know,' he said. 'I didn't realise they had.'
He turned to the huge policeman that guarded his front door. 'Are you a visitor from The People's Republic of Pinkness, sir?'
'No sir, President Dayv,' replied the policeman.
'Nor I,' said Dayv. 'I'll do some research Pursi, and get back to you.'
'You do that,' snapped Pursi Prattlehume. He pointed to the front page of the Haili Improbabull Daily Mule, the alleged newspaper which reported a flood of Pinks pouring into the country. The Mule sold oodles of newspapers that day.
'You do that,' he repeated, pointing again at Dayv. The huge policeman moved his immense weight slightly to the left, then slightly to the right. He cracked his knuckles behind his back.
*
Once Dayv was settled in at The Temporarily Imperial Palace and had managed to kick the habit of walking the streets pushing things through letterboxes, he noticed the people's euphoria abating somewhat. He watched the news on TV, and after the initial shock of realising he was on it, he began to study the faces of the complaining public.
*
The Daily Improbabull Mule ™ newspaper ran stories on the lines of 'The Pinks are Immigrating.'
They ran stories on 'Naff Pasties ™ can't find the staff to work nights.'
Diligent Temporary President Dayv was aware of this because one P. Prattlehume esq., visited and showed him the headlines.
'I didn't know that,' said Diligent Dayv. 'But I'll find out.'
The angry protesters on TV waved 'What is Dayv doing?' placards.
'I'm finding out,' said Dayv, from the comfort of the Temporary Imperial President's Jacuzzi.
Before he'd dried himself the intercom rang. It often did at such moments.
'Hello Mr Dayv, sir. There is a large group of voters, but personally I'd call them religious nutters, who wish to worship you. Can I tell them to sod off?'
'Better not, Mr. Policeman. Have they got any weapons?'
'None that I can see. They don't seem the type.'
'Could be an improvement on the TV then. How's the wife.'
'Dunno. Just some woman I wake up next to.'
Dayv gotitated somewhat.
'I said How's the wife.'
'Oh! Sorry Dayv. Thought you said who. Of course, I sometimes wonder whose she is, too. Now that you ask, she's a bit deaf.'
'Hello Dayv. We're the 2nd Coming of NostrilDamus the neo-vegetarian, pro-vitamin, anti-censorship, born-again, wossnames.'
'Yes. I thought you probably would be,' smiled Dayv.
'We haven't decided on the last word yet. It is the subject of lively democratic debate!'
'That is encouraging,' quoth Dayv. 'Democratic debate and no weapons. The twin pillars of our civilisation. What did you wish to talk about?'
'Well we have a list of suggestions, channelled directly from the spirit e-world by Mavis' wonky modem. Stop hiding Mavis! And substantiati . . . corroboroborob . . . , with similar quotes from the diaries of NostrilDamus. That's from the diaries of his first incarnation, of course.'
'That's reassuring,' quoth Dayv.
'Top of our agenda is the environment,' said the spokesperson.
'Excuse me one moment,' said the huge policeman. 'Kindly stand back whilst the mail is delivered. I think you will find this is an essential item in the plot. Though 'plot' may be something of an overestimate . . .'
The 2nd Coming Wossnames did as they were bid and a small, securely-locked case was delivered from the huge, armour plated, tinted-windowed, government car.
The spokesperson tutted disapproval at most of the car. The fact is, the car was so big that your average Haili Improbabull-Standard tutter couldn't convincingly tut all of it in one gasp.
Dayv noticed they'd overlooked the worship, which was a great comfort to him in his time of profound weirdness.