Orange and green
Stumpy failed. He fell asleep and tried to fob me off with some rapid fakery involving steam and a bloodstained lightbulb. I have given him a preliminary beating while I consider what punishment he deserves.
I was distracted from this by a visitor. Upon opening the door, I faced a grinning beard who made a bizarre statement.
"I am green," was what he said.
There was a long and pregnant pause. In due course it gave birth to another pause, also long but mercifully not pregnant. When it ended I cleared my throat.
"I don't know what you've been told," I said, "but you are not green. From where I'm standing you are a sort of wan...beige...ashen kind of colour. Definitely unhealthy, but not as bad as green."
He laughed, a sound that found a reaction in me similar to that of a bottle breaking (yes, a simile! It even has 'similar' in it so it's a similar simile. If you've heard it before it's a familiar similar simile. Say it five times fast. No reason. It just keeps you busy).
Well, what was I talking about? Oh yes, my visitor who thought he was the Green Man, when in fact he looked more like a beard on a stick (another one, even if it is tenuous).
"You don't understand," he said through a mouth with far too many teeth. "I mean I'm environmentally friendly. I use little electricity or gas, most of my power comes from free, natural resources and I never eat animals killed in abbatoirs."
Well, thought I, a kindred spirit. I had no idea a refusal to part with cash was known as 'being Green'. I am also environmentally friendly even though the local environment is the most unfriendly imaginable. I never eat anything killed in abbatoirs. With Stumpy's cooking, I wonder if many of our meals have been killed at all. So I invited the walking beard inside.
Then he produced glossy brochures extolling the virtues of his Green agenda. As with all glossy brochures, they involved the separation of money and me.
I called Stumpy and asked if he knew how to cook beard.
