ROGER'S FABULOUS VOYAGES, PART 3, CHAPTER 5. (standard:humor, 2542 words) [5/10] show all parts
Author: Danny Zil	Added: Jun 18 2012	Views/Reads: 2009/1467	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The main Union on Klyzemadez decides to come out on strike...and then discovers it has hardly any workers.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

“It is, lad,” Arthur agreed. “Let's stop all this and get back to reason
why we're here. I vote we have a few moments silence to remind 
ourselves of the problems in Klyzemadex's pits an get our roles 
straight in our heads again.” 

“Agreed!” Colin piped up. “Seconded!” 

Arthur glared at him. “You can't agree to motions and second them as
well, you twat!” he reprimanded. 

Colin looked at the floor. “Sorry Arthur,” he muttered. 

“Who'll second the motion then?” Arthur asked. Roger cleared his throat
again. “Well, actually I disagree with the motion,” he said. 

“Blackball!” Derick sneered. 

“Scab!” Colin sneered. 

“Shutit you two,” Arthur ordered. “The brother here's entitled to his
opinion, even if it clashes with mine, I mean ours,” he quickly 
corrected. 

“That's not what you said earlier, Arthur,” Colin reminded him. 

“Yeah, you said if anybody's opinion clashed with yours we had to break
his legs,” added Colin. “With big wooden sticks.” 

Arthur tugged at his shirt collar and looked a bit uncomfortable. 

“You never said what kind of wood though,” Derick went on. 

“Yeah, you never said what kind of wood,” echoed Colin. 

“There's lots of different kinds of wood,” Derick told him. “It could be
pick handles or shovel handles or--” 

“For Christ sake shutit,” said Arthur. 

“Or rakes with the prongs taken off or small trowels with the digging
bits rem--” 

“I said shutit!!” yelled Arthur. 

Colin and Derick jumped then lapsed into silence. 

Arthur shook his head. “Now let's hear what the brother has to say about
why he disagrees with the motion of having a few moments silence so we 
can get our roles straight in our heads again. 

Roger cleared his throat again for the third time in a page. “Well
actually I'm rather fed up with this role I've been given,” he began, a 
little self-consciously. “I've been depicted as a rather weedy, 
ineffectual sort, naïve at times, hysterical at others.” 

“Ye've been in novel from start, haven't ye, lad?” said Thropely. 

“Well yes I have.” 

“Then stop fuckin moanin!” 

Stan sniggered. “Aye, we had t' wait ages before we came into it.” 

“But it's not fair!” ranted Roger. “I don't want to be like this.” 

“Best not t' complain, love. Things could get a lot worse for ye.” 

“Aye, yer right there, Doris,” agreed Stan. 

“Oh I don't care!” Roger said dramatically. “I'm fed up being like this.
I want to be a strong forceful character. I want to be handsome and 
have women fall at my feet. I want to be witty and debonair. I want to 
be the dead John Wayne. What!? The dead John Wayne!? But I never meant 
to say that!!” 

“Told ye, love. That's you gettin punished for not bein grateful that ye
were in book from start,” Doris explained to him. 

“Aye, Ah've come across it afore,” said Thropely. “Characters start
saying things they don't really want to. Can't control themselves, 
like” 

“Who's John Wayne?” asked a puzzled Wilf. 

“Used t' be a cowboy in films way back hundreds of years ago,” Stan told
him. 

“What's a cowboy?” asked a puzzled Wilf. 

Arthur thumped the table. “Right brothers, let's get down to business!”
he said forcefully. “The union team is here because brother Valory 
asked us to intervene in the trouble at the pit. So if I could ask the 
brother to sum up the problem for us.” 

Valory rose. “Well brothers, it's the Germans,” he began, looking round
at everyone. “They're takin over every pit on Klyzemadex an forcin all 
miners t' speak german.” 

Arthur shook his head. “Bastards!” he spat. “It's obvious they need
taught a lesson and this is the time to do it.” 

Valory applauded, an adoring smile on his face. 

“It's time for the working man on Klyzemadex to show these Germans they
can't be pushed around,” Arthur went on. 

Valory applauded again and cheered. 

“Yes, this is a golden opportunity to bring this whole fucking planet to
its knees!” Arthur finished. 

Valory halted in mid-applause. Bring the planet to its knees!? He hadn't
expected this kind of reaction from Arthur. Maybe a little strike. Just 
a smallish one. No, that was a bit harsh – maybe a strongly worded 
letter to the pit management, as long as it didn't hurt anybody's 
feelings. But bringing the planet to its knees!? 

“Yes its knees!” said Arthur. “If we play our cards right I can see this
strike lasting for months and months and it will go a long way towards 
making me a legend in my own mind, I mean mine. Making me a legend in 
my own mine.” 

Arthur paused and glanced round the enthralled audience of a bemused
Roger, distraught Valory, slumbering Sir Ashley and quietly sniggering 
Thropely and Stan. Doris was continuing with her knitting and was only 
half-listening. 

“Look at the state of this planet,” Arthur went on, disgust in his
voice. “It's stable, it's prosperous, it's peaceful, there's full 
employment...and now the bastard Germans want to rule it! Because 
believe me they won't stop at the pits!! They'll only stop when they 
rule the planet!!!” 

Thunderous applause followed this. It died down when Colin stopped
applauding. 

“Lad's got point though, hasn't he,” Thropely muttered to Stan. 

“Aye, he has that,” replied Stan. 

“Right, what we want is some action. Newspaper coverage of the strike,
tv interviews, radio interviews, that sort of stuff. We've got to get 
our message across. Derick – you handle the media.” 

“Usual way?” Derick asked, bringing out a blackjack and thumping it in
and out of his hand. 

“No,” Arthur said. “Use some subtlety.” 

“Okay boss,” Derick said, grinning and thumping some subtlety in and out
of his hand. 

Arthur nodded. “Next, we've drawn up a list of demands,” he went on.
“We're having an all out strike until each and every one of our demands 
are met fully. Colin – read out the demands.” 

Roger laughed loudly. Everyone turned to look at him. He flushed. 

“Something funny, brother,” Arthur asked. 

“Sorry,” said a flustered Roger. “I was made to laugh there for no
reason.” 

“Ah warned ye, love,” Doris reminded him. “Yer gettin punished.” 

“Can we get on?” Arthur asked. “Right Colin – read out the demands.” 

Colin took out a folded sheet of paper from his jacket then glanced
round to see if he had everyone's attention. “Here are our demands!” he 
announced pompously. “First demand : Dear Mum and Dad, just a few lines 
to say I'm well. Hope you are well. Are the ferrets alright? How are 
Gram's piles? Is Uncle Sid still--” 

“What the bleeding hell is that crap!?” Arthur barked at him. 

Colin stared at the sheet of paper and bit his lip. 

“That's a letter,” Arthur said to him. “You're reading a bloody letter.
Where's our list of demands?” 

Colin's eyes darted round the room in panic. 

“And stop darting your eyes round the room like that,” Arthur warned
him. “You know it gives you a migraine. Now where's our list of 
demands?” 

“On its way to my mum and dad in place of this letter,” Colin said
softly. 

“Christ, he's for it,” Thropely muttered to Stan. 

“Should be good,” Stan muttered back, grinning. 

“I didn't hear you say that, Colin,” Arthur said, gazing at the ceiling.
“I didn't hear you say that the list of demands which took us forty 
eight intensive hours to draw up and of which we don't have a copy is 
on its way to your mum and dad instead of that letter?” 

Colin was cringing now, waiting for the full brunt of Arthur's wrath to
descend on him. So was the room. 

Arthur the Vengeful was still staring at the ceiling and tapping his
foot. Colin started shaking. Eventually Arthur sighed and shook his 
head. He glanced at Colin, smiled and laid an arm on his shoulder. 

“Oh forget it,” he told him. “Anybody can make a mistake.” 

Colin restarted breathing and attempted a smile. 

“But you make them ALL THE FUCKING TIME!!” Arthur yelled directly into
his ear. 

Colin fainted. 

Valory and Roger cringed. The others sniggered. 

“Ye'll have t' sit down an re-do yer demands, lad,” Thropely advised
Arthur. 

Arthur nodded. “I know.” He glanced down at the unconscious Colin.
“Bring him round,” he ordered Derick. 

“Okay Arthur,” said Derick. He bent down and dragged Colin's body round
to Arthur's other side. 

Arthur's head sank into his hands. “I mean round, as in conscious,” he
said from between his fingers. 

“Oh. Right,” muttered Derick. 

Young Wilf nipped out and returned with a bowl of water. Derick took it
and threw it over Colin's face. Colin spluttered and sat up. Derick 
helped him to his feet. 

“Sorry Arthur,” he muttered groggily. 

Arthur shook his head in disgust. He took a few moments to compose
himself then started a dramatic speech. “Brothers,” he said, his voice 
thick with emotion and phlegm, I see this coming struggle against the 
Germans as a first class opportunity to unite the working classes on 
this planet in an ongoing situation which will further my, ah their 
cause, the cause of trade unionism in general.” 

“Christ, here we go,” muttered Thropely. 

“For too many years now the working man on this planet has been led up
the garden path by the bosses,” Arthur went on. 

“Hear hear!” added Valory. 

Arthur nodded at him. “It's now time for them to be led up the garden
path by somebody else – me, I mean themselves. It's time the bosses 
were brought to their knees so the people who really deserve it can run 
the planet the way they want to under my leadership.” 

Thunderous applause from Colin. 

“So let's get organised then, brothers,” said Arthur. “We'll be bringing
out the dockers, the steelworkers and the railwaymen in support of the 
miners. Brother Valory – get yourself out and tell them we're on strike 
as of now.” 

Valory opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, thought
better of it, closed his mouth and slipped out of the room. 

Colin – you're President of the Transport Union, Derick – you're
President of the Electricians Union,” Arthur went on. “I want your 
members out now as well.” 

“What, right now?” Colin asked. 

“Now,” said Arthur. 

Colin and Derick glanced at each other, shrugged then unzipped their
trousers and began to reach into them. 

“Not those members!” Arthur told them. 

“Pricks!” a bold Roger said then clapped a hand over his mouth as
everyone laughed. 

Just then Valory arrived back, looking a little sheepish. 

“Christ that was quick, brother Valory,” Arthur said. “Well done. Did
you get the message out then?” 

Valory stared at the floor. “Well...Ah didn't like t' mention it before,
Mr Ackley but...but...” 

“But what?” Arthur asked. 

“We don't have any dockers or steelworkers or railwaymen.” 

Arthur looked at him for a moment then bowed his head. “So they won't
join the union, the bastards?” 

“It's not that they won't join the union, Mr Ackley, it's just that
there aren't any.” 

Something occurred to Arthur. He turned to Colin. “How many transport
workers have you got?” he asked. 

Colin bit his lip. 

“How many?” Arthur persisted. 

“None,” Colin told him. 

Arthur turned to Derick. “And how many electricians in your union?” he
asked. 

Derick smiled. “Well actually quite a lot,” he said, enthusiastically,
“but the only problem is that they're all away on holiday just 
now...all of them...to other planets.” 

“How many?” Arthur asked. 

“None,” Derick admitted. 

“So how many of us are there all together, including the phantom holiday
makers?” 

Colin and Derick looked away. Pretended they'd seen something really
interesting out the French windows. Brushed imaginary fluff from their 
clothes. Wished they were somewhere else. 

“How many?” Arthur asked. 

“Well there's you, me, Derick and Valory,” Colin finally told him. 

Arthur's head sank down on to the table. He started slowly beating his
fists on it. “Four!” he wailed. “Fucking four!” Separated from stardom 
by reality, he wept. 

The very bold Roger stood up. “You said you were going to bring the
planet to its knees!” he reminded Arthur. “With four people!? Its 
knees!? Ha! You couldn't even bring it to its fucking elbows!! 

The room dissolved into laughter, Roger clapped his hand over his mouth
and a still weeping Arthur was led out by Colin and Derick. 


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