|The Sink (standard:Satire, 1927 words)|
|Author: Ashok Gurumurthy||Added: Mar 18 2005||Views/Reads: 2336/1250||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A parody of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead.|
Hoggart D'Pork scanned the sea, which the cliff he was standing on—naked—overlooked, and the splendid blue of the water, which had a tranquillizing effect on even the most belligerent men, paled insignificant compared with the fiery azure spot in his eyes where one would expect to find the pupil. Earthly fires, usually a shade of red, were no match for that deadly azure of his eyes; just as blue stars are hotter than red ones. The fire in his eyes had a quality of sedateness. It was a fire that didn't consume everything oxidizable hard-by, didn't spread like a common forest fire, didn't have flames that seem to tease the object about to be charred to ashes by first licking it, didn't heat up its surroundings, and didn't produce the green-house gas carbon dioxide; its promise of total annihilation of the spirit—apparent to any earthly eye that happened to catch sight of it—was as ominous as a thousand vultures zeroing in on a corpse. Anyone who lapsed into looking into the light-capturing, fire-exuding azure eyes had to face the severest rebuke, the harshest callous indifference, the coldest reprimanding lava-stare and an aspect as polite as the rebuke was severe, the indifference was harshly callous, and the lava-stare was coldly reprimanding. The feeling this wonderstruck beholder had was that of a child lost in a desert seeing thousands of wolves hurtling towards him from the sky, to be immediately followed by a stabbing fear lest only the politeness should be real and the rest, cold-induced hallucination, the coldness belonging to the blue of the eyes. Standing with his arms raised above his head and joined at the palm, he prepared for the dive. Then suddenly his left foot slipped upsetting his balance. He tried sitting by bringing both hands down to get a grip, but failed. He was falling freely into the water—feet first. In spite of the unnerving accident, he soon regained control mid-air and managed to offer a streamlined body to the water. He was a skilful swimmer and had little trouble reaching the beach that was a few hundred metres away, where the only man-made things were his clothes and towel. He quickly dried and clothed himself. Then, in brisk steps, he headed for the club. *** Monica was Reid Seat-Sting's girlfriend and passionately hated him. She was aware though that he had a certain charm that tourists found captivating, and which made him a huge success in his business. Her true love, Hoggart, had repeatedly failed to charm anyone, much to her chagrin. Her feelings Reid was conscious of, but he simply didn't care; Hoggart could only just support himself financially and there was no threat to his position as her suitor. What he did not know was that what little Hoggart had had come from the pawnbroker in exchange for the "mementoes of love" that he continually felt compelled to vouchsafe to Monica. The pair, whose engagement had been put off seven times in as many months, was now seated in a table for three at the Cafe Stupendous attached to the club. Both were members, and so was Hoggart. Shortly Hoggart arrived and joined them at the table quietly slipping into the empty chair. Reid, contempt plain in his voice, said to Hoggart 'So you were fired?' 'No-one fires me; my employee status was terminated' said Hoggart, betraying no emotion. 'Did you ask to be put out of collar?' 'No.' 'Then you were fired. Your ideas upon the word are evidently wrong.' 'You sound very sure.' 'That's because I am.' 'As I understand it, the employer fires the employee if he's displeased with him. So it is an act of volition, the employee's displeasing the employer. So essentially inviting termination of employment is the Click here to read the rest of this story (177 more lines)
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