Armageddon – Peace be upon you
The empire was quiet everything was rosy the sun was shinning and song birds had returned and were nesting in our fabulous community gardens. The Mk XX hidden in the hibiscus border had worked well on the cats & dogs.* The irrigation was working correctly and the swimming pools were crystal clear. Contented owners were reading books on sunbeds. Children were happily playing in the kiddies swimming pool. Only disturbed by the small explosions caused by the people lighting up in the swimming pool area (Mk XIV). Dysentery induced by the Mk IX was a bonus for persistent disregard for the no eating rule.
The phone had stopped ringing during the night and the administrator had all the embargos done and dusted. The non payers were sorted out and they were now fully paid up with their community fee’s. There was also a surplus in the community fund thanks to the substantial increase in the community fee and surcharges agreed by a whopping majority. The new sump pumps in the underground garage worked a treat thanks to the extra donations contributed by the yearly advance payments of the community fee by all the owners and promoter and by the banks on the repossessed properties.
The costly parts from cybederne systems were not needed anymore. The outrageous price they were asking for the micro camera eye which also had CCTV dual functionality was ridiculous every time you ordered one the price had gone up, then it was a minimum of two per order. By the time you take into account the exchange rate and postage the oncost was prohibitive. The balance sheet had to be improved.
Out sourcing components from screw fix were adequate. Statistical process controls on quality kept components within the parameters. This improved margins for the share holders bonus (Community). I, sorry pardon me ‘we’ were making a fortune on the Mk IX they were going out by the truck load to other presidents. Online sales were improving especially in the summer.
The board financial report at next years AGM will encourage renewal and signing of confidentiality contracts regarding area 51 and its suppliers. Customer orders are now processed on low stock and storage logistics. An aggressive JIT supply has also reduced costs this is all handled by an efficient cost effective carrier with a no sale and return policy.
The work of the bokor must progress.
Psssst! Do not tell anyone about this so close your door and drop the shutters and dim the lights if you dare!
I have a confession if that is the right word development had began one dark stormy night on a one off Mk DCLXVI doll held on a cross upside down with some elastic bands an autopsy revealed this was necessary because this one had an un repaired bladder feature. As the ceremony started music from Tubular Bells filled the air the iPod was not in the speaker dock! ‘Ooh!…Errrr!’
Putrid smells and an eerie smoke drifted under the closed door my podenco had a strange gurgling voice like howl ‘ñi…rr…..éM!’ I slowly opened the door scary flashes and muffled splat noises were coming from the direction of the kitchen. Damn it! I had put my meat pie on a metal tray in the microwave!
Taking my burnt pie back to the chamber (second bedroom) I checked my watch for the time the hands had stopped moving! Mike Oldfield was still in my surreal environment. I dipped the chicken foot in the tabasco and another thought struck me that would be nice on my over done pie.
The candles flickered an icy chill was in the air a voice filled the chamber from the 5.1 dolby computer speakers oh my God that is Douglas Rain.
‘My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I’m a… fraid.’
I quickly type on the keyboard. There is nothing to be afraid of.
‘Yes! There is!’
Is it the Mk DCLXVI or a nuclear holocaust? The keys clattered. ‘Boooomb!’
‘I agree amigo. It is the super rich Arab investors buying up the Spanish toxic debt in property.’
Why? I typed with one finger.
‘BOGOF available on a wide range of unsold properties with a one hundred percent deposit at full asking price for the first property the free one must have a cheaper value by a factor of two.’
‘Whaaat the!’ I blurt out.
‘One thousand litres of free petrol or diesel also air miles are on offer to agents plus a good commission. Make your targets and a free four by four gas guzzler is yours.’
After a short pause I type my response. When?
‘Here is the answer I am going to give you irrespective of the question you asked me.’
I frantically bash the keys to a pulp. Is that you Alistair?
‘All this information I give you depends on how dumb your government and bank manager is and also the value of your over inflated mortgage valuation.’
‘When? When? When answer the question you silicon pile of junk.’
‘I do not have sufficient information about the first occupation licences it depends on when they finish constructing the developments.’
‘So am I, what is wrong with your speech recognition you are not mother why am I typing this?’
‘The option to override automatic detonation will expire in t-minus five minutes.’
Flashing lights from the disco lamp whizzed around the chamber and puffs of smoke blew out of the air conditioning vent.
Also Sprach Zarathustra starts booming out of the iPod dock speakers.
‘Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do I’m half crazy all for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.’
The pie was gone! ‘Ooh!…..Errrr!’
I did not notice that my podenco had followed me into the bedroom before I had closed the door he had scoffed it. Hold on a mo I am just going to put another pie on. Use your imagination and get a subliminal image of Farther Damian Karras with some green goo over his face.
The head of the doll was spinning around like a top when I returned with my nice homemade steak and kidney pie the shock made me drop the pie onto my podenco who shot off with it. You would think he never got anything to eat he had only just finished his own dinner plus that chicken and mushroom pie.
No pies left so a pasty would have to do all this chanting makes you hungry God knows what the time was. I ate the pasty in the kitchen the detector had stopped wailing since I changed the air condition control to extract it had soon cleared the fumes and smoke from the chip fryer.
I peered around the bedroom door good grief! Where was the doll? The music had changed to the Indiana Jones theme! ‘Conner, Conner where are you?’ I whispered softly I cracked my bullwhip where did that come from? The tall crowned wide brimmed fedora fell over my eyes blinding me as something brushed against my leg. Tubular Bells was back on. ‘Here boy where are you?’ I nervously asked.
‘Oooohhh! %#€&*¿$! Errrrrrr!’
Lifting a corner of my hat is that Dave Bowman on the computer screen? What on earth is all the scratching at the front door? ‘Hello boy! Conner where have you been then you naughty dog? If you are here who was that in the bedroom?’
I rushed back into the chamber ‘Nooooo!’ The wardrobe safe door was open all my blue prints and plans were gone for the doll manufacturing the recipes for the juju they were all gone. The computer tower was smouldering then a stark realization swept over me I had not backed up my work from the hard drive. Arrrrgh! My, ‘our’ personal community account details and information for my sorry again ‘our’ investments in Landsbanki up in smoke along with my customer data base. Maybe just maybe the storage box in the bottom of the wardrobe. ‘D’oh!’ It was empty all the dolls were gone including the superb animatronics series.
Tinternet had sent back a cyborg podenco and removed all trace of their technologies my reverse engineering of the parts in that one euro fifty doll that I bought at the market all gone, gone I tells ye!
Holy crap what is that noise? Raising the shutter on the window six drunks are in the swimming pool screaming and fighting a film crew from Costa del Crime is recording all the action. Household rubbish is strewn all over the arid gardens. The swimming pool has turned green and all the sunbeds were in the kiddies pool. One of the pugilists is puking up a torrent of green slime ‘oh! No!’ They are eating pizza. Loud music is playing all over the community.
♫ ‘Hello Dolly!
Well, Hello Dolly!
It’s so nice to have you back where you belong’ ♫
The telephone and mobile were both ringing. ‘Woe is me!’ I have to stop doing this job.
*The Mk XX only emits a high pitch inaudible frequency deterrent and is totally harmless to animals.
*No podenco’s were harmed in the making of this armageddon weblog. A possible prequel may be on the storey board.