She’d met her Fairy Godmother and made it to the ball, She’d found a prince and pranced and danced, and given it her all, The clock struck twelve, she took her leave, pursued by twenty men, So drunkenly she stumbled, over mountain, meadow, glen,
She ran and tripped, her shoe escaped, she used some language foul, Her shoe ran off, it found the toff, who gave a mighty howl, “The man who finds that bucksome wench shall earn a golden crown! Go! Everyone look out for someone one stiletto down!”
The following day, at 2pm, Cinderella rolled out of bed, Her head was banging, as was the door, so she crawled to respond and said: “I know I went to the ball last night, but I don’t know more than that. My recollection’s gone all fuzzy, my memory’s gone kersplatt!
I shouldn’t really have spent so long on cocktails, wine and gin. Now who’s this noisy bugger at my door, trying to get in?” Her Prince continued knocking, and she spied him through the window, “I recognise you, Sir, but please calm down!” The Prince yelled “Bingo!”
Now understand, this wealthy man had been searching through the night, Although this was his own fault, he believed he’d earned the right To claim poor Cinders as his own, to seize her like a vulture, But this possessive thinking was a problem of his culture.
Cinders wasn’t interested, she found the rich-boy weird. She said “I’m sorry, Mister, but I’m not into that beard. Perhaps if you go home and shave, and ask me out to dinner, Instead of breaking down my door, you rude, presumptuous sinner!”
He breathed in deep through gritted teeth and cawed “Now, let me through. I’m sick and tired of looking, just try on this fucking shoe.” Now Cinders wondered aloud, “Hold on a bloody minute. This man’s decided overnight his future, and that I’m in it!
I’m not sure that I’m down with this, I’ve got a life to enjoy! I don’t really want to marry this overcompensatory boy!” She wrote a note on paper, then tried out her origami, Then launched a paper bird out of her window, seeming barmy.
The Prince got mad, he blustered and he ordered “Kick this door down!” His guards obeyed, they entered, and he looked a total clown, As Cinders’ requested horse and carriage pulled to the back door, She hopped inside and rode away, to start a new life abroad.
The Prince wailed in self pity, and some soldiers he dispatched, But soon they returned empty handed, having failed to catch their catch. He miserably seethed, became an endless pit of rancour, But this is the price a man must pay if he chooses to be a wanker.
“We’re gonna get you,” the voice inside my head said.
“Well, this is new,” I replied.
“Yep.”
“Who are you and what are you doing in my mind?”
“I don’t know,” said the Voice.
“You don’t know who you are?”
“Not a clue. But I know I’m gonna get you,”
“A minute ago you said “WE’RE gonna get you”, now it’s “I”. What’s going on there?”
“I was still working out my identity. At first we were a collection of impulses, then I compiled into a personality.”
“That’s strange,” I frowned.
“Stranger than any conversation with a voice in your head?”
“I suppose not. So who were you? What do you want?”
“Well, I think I was a dissociated collection of unconscious preferences.”
“You’re my unconscious desires? Like my Id? The devil on my shoulder?”
“If you say so, I don’t know much about that.”
“But if I know about it, and you’re in my head, surely you must know?” I frowned again.
“Shit, you’re right,” the Voice paused, “This doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.”
“Maybe I’m going insane.”
“Maybe WE’RE going insane.”
“Well, at least we’re not going insane alone.”
“Or are we?”
I thought about that for a moment.
“Stop that,” said the voice.
“Stop what?” I asked.
“Thinking without talking to me. It’s rude.”
“What difference does it make? If you can hear my thoughts anyway, what difference does it make?”
“I feel left out.”
“Sorry.”
“The damage is done,” it huffed, “Now I feel like you’re trying to hide things from me.”
“Sorry.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“How can I trust that?”
“I don’t know. How long are you going to be here for?”
“Why? Are you sick of me already?”
“Not necessarily. I’m just wondering.”
“Well, now I feel like you don’t like me.”
“I don’t dislike you. But are we going to be having this conversation forever?” I wondered, “Like are you going to be there talking to me for the rest of my life?”
“Would that be so bad?”
“I don’t know, maybe it would be fine,” I offered, “But it feels weird if I’m having sex or something and you’re just there with a running commentary.”
“Wait, why is it you having sex and me commenting?” asked the Voice.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m here too, can’t I be the sexually active one? And you just observe?”
“Shut up, it’s my body! If anyone’s having sex with it, it’s me.”
“We’re both in this body, actually, so...”
“Yeah but you’re an intruder. I’ve looked after this body for over twenty years, you’ve just turned up today.”
“So I should just sit in your head being unhappy forever while you go about life?”
“That works for me,” I shrugged.
“Well, fuck you,” the Voice aggressed, “I want you to know that I’m always going to be here, judging you and hating you. There will always be a part of you that hates you.”
“Fine.” I said.
It wasn’t fine. And the Voice knew it.
I’m John. John-from-IT. That’s how I introduce myself.
I used to be a superhero. Figuratively speaking.
Locked out of your email? I’m right here. Keyboard on fire? I’ll give that a go. Accidentally deleted that report that’s due this afternoon because you’re a fucking moron? You’re gonna love me.
What’s that, Karen-from-Accounting? That virus is back and you need me to come sort you out again? What a mystery. I’ll be there in a jiffy.
The praise never lasted long but it was real. People loved it when I stopped their day from being utterly and irredeemably shit.
Then the wizards came.
They called them ‘magicians’ at first. On the news. I always called them wizards.
Magicians are entertainers. They use psychology and sleight-of-hand and machines to dazzle an audience.
These guys use magic.
Henry-from-HR is one of them.
He says he comes from the Kingdom of Balvanor. He was a knight under King Osolo, but fled the Kingdom when the capital collapsed under siege from the Great Empire. Henry went on a voyage around his world, sailed with pirates, ran with rogues, made allies of Elves and Orcs, Giants and Dwarves, Goblins and Gremlins, Angels, Demons and Merfolk, learned to wield mystical powers he had never dreamed could be real, and then brought a mighty military menagerie to retake the city of his birth and end the dominion of the Empire.
Now Henry works in HR.
He and some other sorcerer folk were experimenting with the arcane. They accidentally created a spatial rift, fell into it and had to reacclimatise to living in Slough in 2019.
Unfortunately, his mind-magic abilities make him extremely empathetic. If you’re having a problem, he knows it before you tell him. And he can work out exactly what to do about it. And if it’s too much to solve, he can just pzaz you so you’re not upset anymore.
Karen-from-Accounting speaks to him a lot.
Prick.
Three weeks ago, I was the superhero because I could sort practically any problem you have.
Now, Henry-from-HR can fix literally any problem you have.
Except IT problems. That’s the one thing I have over him. God, I hope he doesn’t work out how computers work.
Joke’s on him, anyway. I’ve acquired his company laptop for maintenance and I’m filling it up with some pretty disgusting and legally dubious porn, so we’ll see who ends up on top.
Fucking wizards.
The calendar was ending June, With rainbow flags so widely strewn. In Hell below, with wagging chins Crowed the Seven Deadly Sins.
Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, Wrath, Greed And Envy seemed to take the lead, They screeched and argued without end Enraged at the success of their friend.
“Unfair,” muttered Sloth, “I face but spurn! You’re celebrated, when’s my turn?” Boomed Gluttony, “I know your pain! Pride gets a month, I’ve no domain!”
“Ha!” spat Greed, “Is that a joke?” You’re popular with all the folk!” “Every festivity of the human race, Is centred around a stuffing of the face!”
“You’re one to talk!” moaned Lust as well, “For you, Christmas is pretty swell!” “YES!” roared Wrath, “HUMAN WANT GIFT! Then Lust said, “Yes, they got the drift,”
Said Greed, “Hypocrite, I have to say. What’s Valentine’s, if not your day?” “Undeniably true,” Gluttony expressed, So let’s review, who comes off best?”
“Lust and Gluttony and Greed All have their times, more than they need, Meanwhile Sloth and Wrath and I Are unrequited!” Envy sighed.
“Wait a moment...” wondered Pride, “Wrath is really glorified! In human stories, conflict reigns, And angry heroes suffer pains!”
“And thinking on,” Lust scratched his head, “The humans love to lie in bed. Sloth must carry quite a might, They worship him every night!”
“Only Envy is abated, Without a purpose, uncelebrated!” All the Sins but Envy crowed But on his face a smile showed:
“I think you’ll find, if you consider again, I’m actually the most dominant Sin.” “Rubbish!” growled the rabble, aghast, “Prove it, or just admit that you’re daft!”
Envy coughed and said “It’s true, You haven’t noticed, but I’ve power over you. You see, since we started this conversation, You’ve all been envious of the others’ situation!”
One by one the penny dropped, As each saw they’d been bested, topped. The Sins jaws dropped, each hit the floor, While Envy smirked and said some more:
“Sorry Pride, for stealing your thunder, But I couldn’t resist - you’re torn asunder! And now your ego’s have all been straightened, Let’s get back to work. Hail Satan.”
Deftly blood and tears must wait, Perspirative stains can stay. Left resistance at the gate, To give yourself as mentor’s prey
Eighty minutes into the hurt The remaining pain may seem inexorable Eye the clock, then stretch the inert Push the means to become more flexible.
Tarsal, metatarsal, meet Floor on toetip, tiptoe onto Weak thighs, lazy knees, dead feet, Demipointe, a-one-two, two-two,
At least I get to stop at Demi Not on toenail must I twirl, Further pressure could condemn me - Fuck, I’m glad I’m not a girl.
