A Small Blip in a Glittering Career


Simon Warmsley- Maddock, ( his mother had added the ‘Warmsley’ in a fit of vanity), when a boy of six, was a smooth cheeked young lad whose complexion was eased towards his parent’s idea of perfection by a diet of chocolate,  doughnuts and a light sprinkling of multi- vitamin tablets.. He had little to offer the world except unbreakable self confidence and thus, over a  career spanning thirty years,  morphed into Major-General Sir Simon Warmsley- Maddock, Chief of Staff at the army’s Department of Hygiene and  Deportment .

This crucial role, which developed in importance with the growth of television and multi-media, led him to engage in periods of public speaking when the mysteries of his role could be revealed before a sleeping audience. In a hall outside Exeter in the County of Devon, where at least twenty people had gathered  to hear his address, Major General Warmsley- Maddock , in a languid imitation of  discrete ability, rose to engage the silent crowd.

The para-normal seldom makes itself known to us, but a well-trained and vigorous fruit fly, who had been a classmate of Simon’s in a previous life was in the room plotting his revenge. An unforgiven  scone-theft made by the glorious general when the fly was still  in our dimension was the cause of the vendetta.  The flies early death and transformation to another species had been unfortunate, but the bitterness of some crimes lives beyond a grave, and so it was for that boy, now buzzing before the fearless General.

As the speech began, the well-trained fly landed on his nose and tickled him most gloriously. Warmsley- Maddock moved to wave him off, but this smart fly remembered the General’s strategems and ducked neatly to the left before fluttering its unpretty wings over Simon’s eyebrows. The physical dialogue continued with growing energy, until the audience realised they were in danger of being entertained: video’s were made.

“Get off me you stupid bugger” screamed the General to the delight of various You Tube enthusiasts until, at last, the fly retired for a rest. The General, now not completely smart, searched for his notes which had fallen under the reading stand. Dignity forgotten, he crawled on his knees to retrieve them, thus revealing a pair of  pink panties, which gave him  comfort on formal occasions. Within days, he was a star on many computer screens, and was shifted to a new department, with less damaging public repercussions,  as Head of National Security: a role where competence was less required.

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About Peter Wells aka Countingducks

Trying to remember what my future is
This entry was posted in character, childhood, creative writing, Fiction, humour, Life, Talent, writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

24 Responses to A Small Blip in a Glittering Career

  1. catterel says:

    I have often thought it might be fun to come back as an annoying insect, provided the ones you want to annoy are still there to be annoyed. Delightful!

    Like

  2. abbiefoxton says:

    Just now, a fruit fly sipped on my beer, I thought he’d stay and chat awhile, but he had other plans, and many hours to simply spin in circles. Time to push the like button 🙂

    Like

  3. Peter, you are a marvel! What an adorable way to ask for likes! I predict many thousands more!

    Like

  4. A clever little tale: I like the thought that the job of head of National security is perceived as less important than public speaking – sadly a true reflection as rhetoric does seem to take precedence in Western Society.

    Like

  5. Al says:

    They say fiction is based on real life. During my time in Naval Officer Candidate School, aside from the proverbial classes such as Tactics, Navigation, and Damage Control, we had a class called Orientation. Basically, it was to teach us slovenly college kids some manners and how to act like an officer. We used to call it “knife and fork” class. We certainly met our share of Warmsley-Maddocks type instructors.. However, the training on how to deal with former classmates who had transmigrated into fruit flies was sadly lacking.

    Like

  6. Ina says:

    So that is what reincarnation is all about: revenge! Thank you for this delightful story 🙂

    Like

  7. Oh Peter, at the huge risk of becoming boring with my repetitive comments you have done it again, reduced my keyboard to a bleary blur. Thank you, thank you 😊

    Like

  8. amazing one Peter! loved it. 🙂

    Like

  9. D.L. Kamstra says:

    This was a wonderful story! Nicely done 🙂

    Like

  10. eric keys says:

    I imagine your health and exercise tips are well worth the time it takes for me to click the “like” button.

    Like

  11. Rachael Charmley says:

    This is extremely silly and extremely brilliant. I am so pleased that you too can write stories that lead the reader to believe you are – at least some of the time – not properly growed up! Thank you.

    Like

  12. The things you make stories out of! 😀 Excellent!

    Like

  13. babs50nfab says:

    You make me laugh! The pink panties were very telling. I want to come back as a neurologist and examine your head! LOL!
    b

    Like

  14. CKoepp says:

    Fabu! Great description of the event, and lovely detail. 😀

    The program would not let me click the Like button, though. 😦 Apparently, one must be connected to WordPress in an official capacity, which I am not.

    Like

  15. Caroline says:

    “engage in periods of public speaking when the mysteries of his role could be revealed before a sleeping audience.”

    Memories of so many events I’ve found myself attending!! How I wish the events created by the fruit fly had happened on so many of them!!

    xxxx

    Like

  16. desertrose7 says:

    A very entertaining way in which to get my like.

    Like

  17. This is the first time in my life I was rooting for the fly. I have a new found respect and understanding of what they do. Next time one won’t let me sleep I will try apologizing.
    Great story as always!!

    Like

  18. nelle says:

    You always manage to make me laugh!

    Like

  19. Love this story! And I like to wear my Wonder Woman undies.

    Like

  20. Superb Peter! I especialy loved the bit about his ‘lucky pink pants.’

    Like

  21. When dignity and eloquence go viral … Life will never be the same. I love how you tell a story. Just brilliant!

    Like

  22. Who could not press ‘like’? Well done, Peter!

    Like

  23. I have always wanted to be a fly on the wall. Maybe one of these lifetimes..

    Like

  24. donnaeve says:

    I was flitting around (like that fly) out here trying to find out about “the book.” And instead found myself reading and reading – like I always do when I visit and this one post was heeeeelarious! So of course I had to hit Like!!! Like!!! Like!!! 🙂

    Like

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