Monday, 12 April 2010

Part Two. In which Mo considers global warming.

Mo, being a short fellow, doesnt like deep water and he knows that WETF HQ has been warned that the flood risk in Swaton may impact the lower reaches of the Eau. He raised this at his breakfast meeting with the CEO this morning. She agrees this might be a problem and has decided that the hen house should be moved to higher ground, just in case. To undertake this task she called upon the efforts of the HQs "Odd Job"

You may be aware that some people are known, and therefore named, for their particular skills, traits or life style, for instance Eric "Slow Hand" Clapton, Steve "Interesting" Davies or Leonard "Bones" McCoy.

"Odd Job" is referred to in the same manner, mainly because any task his undertakes looks a bit of an odd job when he claims its finished. He's otherwise known as "Half Done". The reasoning for this naming include the unpainted skirting boards, the unfinished rill, the partially fixed trim on the car and the "tidied up" workshop. The CEO had a list of intended works appended to the canteen fridge door, as that's where "Odd Job" hides regularly and she knows it should catch his eye. It appears though that "Odd Job" has a vision problem as some of the items on the list are now 9 years old.

"Odd job" will plead in his defence a variety of reasons for the finished appearance or failure to complete. His current favourites are that he hasn't got the tools, time, ability, he's thinking about the best way to do it or his arm hurts. He is though extremely good at wandering around, whistling tunelessly, getting in the way and looking hurt if complained about.

Just so you have a reference point, he resembles the "skool dog" and has a similar demeanor. Despite all the above he's been around for ages, the CEO is very tolerant and accepts that his eventual solution of "we should get a man in" is probably the best option and works out cheaper than firing him (which she has considered many times).

"Odd Job" immediately starts to ponder the job. Some years earlier he had been given the task of landscaping the orchard. As this involved the use of a proper man sized piece of kit he was quite keen and obtained a large digger with a dozer blade attached to the front. He rapidly excavated the pond, leveled the grounds and piled a fair bit of soil for later redistribution. As you would expect, the pond does not hold water, the ground is not level and the pile of earth is now a permanent grassed hummock feature.

"Odd Job" declared, after some deep thought that the task required the use of two more "handy men". By this he meant the two fellows that live next door, as they were nearby and both had arms that didn't hurt. He would supervise the movement of the coop to the top of the hummock to make sure it all went well. The chaps eventually arrived and a large quantity of refreshments were obtained from the canteen. Mo watches carefully as the three "workers" stood around for a while, being pecked at by the Beryls, drinking from bottles whilst the plan was discussed, each in turn judging the weight of the said coop by attempting, and failing, to lift it with one hand. As the afternoon progressed they felt it became too hot to undertake the task so they retreated to under a tree to consider more options, whilst more beer was consumed.

As dusk fell the CEO went outside to question how things were coming along. She found that the two handy men had departed and "Half Done" was sitting on the decking, contemplating the newts diving around in the very shallow pond.

"So, hows it going?" she asked, noting that the coop is in exactly the same place as before and Mo was quietly herding in his girls for the night.

"Odd Job" explained that, following extensive and careful consideration of the situation, he (and the handy men, and thereby diluting blame) had decided that in order for the chicken coop to be flooded by rising sea levels, or indeed the Eau, there would have be a catastrophic flood of biblical proportions that would cover most of the County to a depth of 15 or maybe 20 feet. Due to the risk of injury, damage to the coop and not wanting to disturb the banty Choo Choo that was still sitting on a clutch of eggs it was probably best to put it off for another day.

At least she hadn't had to put up with that infernal tuneless whistling all day. She looked upon the seated figure and smiled, she could see he thought he had done a good deal of work and that he thought she had real soft spot for him.

Mo knows what shes thinking, its the peat bog down the fen, they will never find his body there.

Save "Half Done" by voting here for egg throwing via

1 comment:

  1. I'm with the CEO and the peat bog down the fen.