The tale I am about to set down in these pages is as strange as its title, but, I assure you on my solemn oath, completely true. It has its beginning some time ago, a year past almost and it is only now that I feel able to recount its remarkable details. It occurred in my lab, my secret lab, located in, well obviously I cannot divulge that detail or it would not be a secret. But I ramble...
Suffice to say it was underground, far away from prying eyes and the police, who frown about so much innocent goings-on nowadays that it becomes difficult to pursue or practice one’s little pastimes. You may describe me or not, as an inventor of sorts, for I try in my own small way to fashion devices that will assist ordinary people to do extraordinary things… Things that they may not have credited possible.
It was one such of these devices which has brought me to relate this tale and to one of the objects in its title: The Hat.
“The Hat” —for so I called it as it covered the head part of my anatomy, was not a normal hat by normal descriptions, but a device balanced on the cranium with various attachments to make the user’s life a trifle more enjoyable and a little less laboursome. For instance, two extendable arms could be used by focusing one’s eyes on an object, enabling it to be lifted with no effort and placed where one wished. Again, to the rear of The Hat, wheeled flaps could be deployed and one could, scooter fashion, mobilise oneself along the highways.
But these were mere playthings, child’s play compared to its prime function. With the attachments of electrodes to various points on my head, which were connected through sleeves to electronic gloves, I had the power to analyse through my special glasses, any piece of written music and play same.
Wondrous —I hear you exclaim, and you would be correct— it really was, if I say so myself. Guitars, drums, saxophones, banjos, all were played with consummate ease, as if I had spent a lifetime of musical pursuits.
I at once decided that this magnificent invention, nay, miracle should be shared with the world and prepare to patent and have it mass-produced. Unfortunately, being an impulsive sort of worker I had not thought to prepare any diagrams or plans of my machine —I just build and tinker with things and if it works, fine. As I would need to disassemble my machine piece by piece and note down its connections, components and wiring, I decided to have one relaxing night on the piano, some classics I fancied, before the laborious task ahead of me.
So decided, I placed The Hat upon my cranium, sat at the piano and settled the music on the stand. In my relaxed mood I failed to notice that I had set the music sheets downside up on the stand and continued. My hands flexed and I placed the electronic gloves on the keyboard. Glasses were focused and I began to play, or rather The Hat and its gloves began to play. A most horrible cacophony of notes emitted from the piano strings as the gloves took charge and the glasses tried to play the mish-mash of wrong-side-up notes.
Much as I endeavoured my hands would not stop, perspiration ran down my shirt and the keys danced and flew about as the electronic gloves tore up and down the keyboard.
How long this lasted I know not, for at some point I fell in a swoon to the floor amidst a clatter of black and white ivories and Hat parts.
When I awoke the damage was apparent, the piano was torn asunder and The Hat beyond repair, pieces scattered to all corners of the room. I removed what little remained intact of the cranium piece and sat in sorrow.
My wonder was lost to the world; I would never be able to re-create it without plans. I despaired. So you see friends how and why I came by this story and its title. I assure you again it is completely true and without fabrication or exaggeration.
You have my word as a gentleman and entrepreneur.
A Day in the Life, By Brian D Donaldson
There will be no more silliness today or we will be forced to take severe and final action to curtail same. Do you understand me?
Go wiggle your sausages in a jelly pot or be a spoil sport! I say again, no more silliness or I will take action.
Go nail a jelly to your knee, it will give you wobbliness and jolliness and happy, happy thoughts.
Right, I warn you, no more nice guy, here comes punishment.
Ah, go mash a banana, I’m sure you will love the squishiness of it. Mash two, be greedy.
You bloody looney, I’m not kidding about punishment!
Say’s you, go kiss your auntie and then tell me you’re bad.
Go chase rainbows down a punctured bucked until you laugh melons, then I will stop.
No way, you silly, loony type person!
O.K. I’m off to catch pink rats in the rickshaw, see you when I get back.
Wait, I’m about to punish you.
Can’t wait, my hairball-blaster is running.
Tiddly bye, silly man - nice engaging with your nonsense.
What? I ?Duh?!!@!?@@
And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes this afternoon’s coverage of today in parliament.