Some of you may remember that I was privy to some heated discussions in the design dept about some of Creation. See back to this piece The Director isn’t Happy
I’m delighted to tell you that I was earwigging on another recently. It took place some time ago but I had the privilege of being allowed to “journey” back to it. The Director, having called senior members of R and D into the boardroom, marched in with these two charming people, one under each arm.
“I understand that you had a party with the archive dept.” He declared. Every head around the table bowed and eyes refused to make contact.
“As I said about the manatee, they are utterly charming but… AGH don’t you sting me you little devil!” The director put the male down on the table and wagged an omnipotent finger at him. “Whoever came up with that obviously drunken name for them can take charge of the boy and don’t come crying to me if you get a venomous sting.”
The director sat down in his very large executive chair with the female on his lap, poking her beak out through his long white beard. He gently stroked her velvet fur.
“This was good. Semi aquatic I like. This is the otter copy, isn’t it? Two layers for warmth and waterproofing. I agreed that. BUT …. why only one functioning ovary? Why a mammal that lays eggs and WHO, I mean WHO in the name of me, gave her a sponge instead of teats?”
Much shuffling and mumbling around the table didn’t seem to satisfy Him so He continued.
“At least this time you gave them some defenses, you learned from the Manatees’ teeth fiasco. Young laddo there has a nice poisonous dart on his back leg. Snake I take it? So you had bird bits, eggs, snake parts and mammalian properties which you threw together in the back bar of the Three Thieves Tavern and this is what you came up with. I’m not happy.”
A junior in Marketing raised a trembling hand and offered the opinion that they would make wonderful sales animals or cuddly toys.
The Director fixed him with a steely glare. “Snively, the only thing I am very pleased about is that Man will find them adorable. You have put them in one of the least populated areas on Earth and if anyone messes with them they will get a nasty sting.” He rubbed his elbow reflectively.
“I’m issuing a new directive. No equipment to leave the labs or offices under any circumstances. You may have parties, my son will always supply the wine but you do not take work out with you. Do you understand?”
Mumbling “Yes, Sir” in unison, the chastened R and D people filed out, leaving God to play with his platypi, of whom he was becoming very fond.
(With many thanks to my co-author Spike Foote)