Dec 7, 2015

Extract from Chapter 40 of mystery-comedy novel, 'The Investigations of the Para-Usual':

Baby clapped his hands loudly to galvanise the crew into action.

‘Okay, let’s reset!’ Let’s go to the prof with the dictionary,’ he bawled.

O’Singh picked up the book he had placed at his feet and looked around, a little confused by the hubbub. The lights dimmed. Persil sloped off to view the action with Baby on an off-stage monitor.

The professor drew a deep breath to compose himself and to recall Baby’s advice on presentational style. The crew members shushed themselves quiet.

‘Thank you! Positions please!’ called Baby. ‘And action!’

O’Singh lowered himself onto a rock, illuminated by the flickering fire. He opened the dictionary, reverentially, turned a couple of pages for effect, then stole a sidelong glance at the cavepeople resuming their original positions around the fire.

‘Closer inspection of a translation dictionary reveals how that utterance “Ug!” would threaten to condemn Alphabetti Spaghetti and the very concept of an edible text,’ said O’Singh, in a hushed tone reminiscent of the great Sir David Attenborough himself.

On the monitor, Persil and Baby could now see O’Singh turn to a page with the section heading: “Caveman-English”. O’Singh turned the page, then the next and the next… all blank pages. No caveman words under “A”, none beginning with “B” and so on. Until at last he arrived at “U”, underneath which the word “Ug!” was followed by an endless list of every conceivable English definition continuing onto the next page and for nigh on the remainder of the book.

O’Singh stopped at a randomly selected spread and pointed to an instance of the word ‘Ug!’

‘“U”, “G”: “Ug!” said O’Singh, slowly, spelling out the Neolithic communication. He snapped the book shut, placed it gently upon a rock ledge then began to creep towards the caveman sat prodding letters around in his bowl.

‘Uh-Ger!’ exclaimed the caveman, very much pleased with himself. He tipped the bowl so his wife could see the letters arranged to form ‘UG’.

O’Singh approached cautiously round the back of the primitive personage. The cavewoman sat at the fire all the while, engrossed in the stirring of her pot of Alphabetti Spaghetti.

‘Quite clearly,’ resumed O’Singh, ‘while cave people were utilising just two letters, there would remain sparse demand for a complete alphabet. Spaghetti it was, Alphabetti though it clearly could not yet claim to be.’

‘Cut!’ boomed Baby.

The lights came up rapidly. O’Singh blinked to accustom his eyes.

‘Sexy, huh?’ said Baby to Persil, as he walked her off set. ‘High drama’s what I bring, drawing the viewers in,’ he boasted.

‘Wow, right?! What was it you said was your saying?’

Baby shook his head as if to say, ‘Come on narrow it down, there’s so much you could quote me on.’

‘Square Eye, the company’s saying. Something about facts?’ suggested Persil.

‘“We don’t tell facts, we sell facts”,’ regurgitated Baby. ‘You bet, babes. That’s what ya talkin’ ‘bout, yuh? We repackage facts. Sex them up with new labels. Put them back on the shop display.’