Reg and Trev knocked on the door and a man dressed in a suit looking slightly harassed answered: ‘Yes?’ he questioned the pair. It was before eight o’clock and the early sky looked grim, grey smudges on a white backdrop.
‘Good morning comrade,’ began Reg brightly. ‘Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer…?’ Reg raised his eyebrows expectantly.
‘What’s the next line sir?’
‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Look, I have to go to work in a minute, is there something you want?’
‘We’re here on behalf of the People’s Socialist Republic of England, lynch mob committee, north-west region, borough of somesuch. Have you ever been an oppressor of the proletariat sir? Might I add that is a nice suit, looks kinda capitalist some might say, not me though. Bet it comes with a top hat and whip.’
The man looked bewildered. ‘My suit? It’s a cheap one from a chain shop; it’s all I can afford.’
‘He’s a neo-Liberal!’
‘Shush Trev,’ started Reg. ‘You’ve not answered my question sir.’ He pointed out looking at the gentleman fiercely with a reddening face.
‘What question was that? Seriously, I have to go and I’ve not even had my brew. I’m a teacher and if I’m late all hell breaks loose. Oh and it’s “We’ll keep the red flag flying here.” by the way; but what the bloody hell are you asking me that for?’
Reg looked taken back; Trev giggled nervously and said: ‘Reg, this bloke knows the line. But he’s wearing a suit and has a top hat and whip; does that make him a capitalist running dog or not?’
‘Dunno mate, let me ‘ave a think.’ Reg turned back to the man in the doorway continuing, ‘Well it seems we’re at a bit of an impasse comrade. You talk the talk but you look like a tool of the oppressor, chuck. So what do we do?’
The man was exasperated; ‘Is that a rhetorical question? Right, piss off and bother someone else. I’m off. Bloody Jehovah’s Witnesses first thing in the morning.’
The door slammed.
‘Definitely a fellow travelling capitalist tool that one; pass me the paperwork Trev.’
From Tall-ish Tales (Short-ish Stories)
Words and pics: © DJA 2016.