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A Bathtub Opportunity

‘Wait, this is going to take how long to fix?’

‘I’m not sure,’ the plumber grunted, before yawning hard enough I could see his tonsils. ‘Couple of months, maybe?’

‘A couple of—what do you mean a couple of months?’

‘So imagine one month,’ he said, sounding bored, ‘and then kinda double that amount of time in your head. Couple months.’

His eyes narrowed as he thought something through, then he shook his head.

‘Maybe triple it.’

‘That’s unacceptable!’ I cried, my blood pressure rising.

‘Hey, pal,’ he said, adjusting his work belt and frowning. ‘You asked me to come out and supply you with a bathtub remodel cost for Sydney homes, and I gave it to ya. I don’t need no attitude from you.’

‘You’re right, you’re right,’ I conceded, putting my hands up in surrender. ‘I apologise. It’s been a hard week.’

‘It’s forgotten,’ the plumber shrugged, tucking something back into his work belt.

‘So why is it going to take so long?’

‘Wellll,’ he started, rocking back on his heels and adjusting his cap. ‘There’s parts I gotta order, contractors I’ve got to organise. Plus, I’m going on vacation next week. Bermuda, thank you for asking.’

A thought suddenly occurred to him and he clicked his fingers excitedly.

‘Hey, there’s an idea,’ he murmured. ‘I might be able to get you a new bathtub by the end of this week. I can give ya a discount and everything.’

‘Oh? What’s the catch?’

‘No catch!’ he chuckled. His smile slowly faded and he held up a finger. ‘One catch.’

‘What is it?’ I sighed.

‘It’s a converted tub, for an old lady. Specifically, I did an easy step bathtub conversion on it.’

‘So it’s…’

‘Designed for people who can’t use a bath anymore, correct.’

I sighed, considering it.

‘You can have it done by the weekend?’

‘Ayup.’

‘For half the price of the one I wanted?’

‘Well, maybe not—’

‘For half the price?’

He sighed and held out his hand.

‘It’s a deal.’

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Mist and Mischief

We were both startled by the crack of a loud noise ripping through the fog near us, our unknown assailant taking blind shots through the mist.

Loque clasped a hand over my mouth and pressed me back against the wall, even as my eyes widened with the primal urge to flee.

‘That ought to have ‘em,’ an oafish voice chuckled from somewhere nearby. Loque’s eyes snapped shut at the voice, his head cocking slightly to the side.

‘Scared ‘em off like rats, we did.’

Another figure grunted in response to the first. Loque’s eyes slide open with a wolfish grin and he released me, slipping away into the mist before I could gesture my confusion.

‘So what’s this about ducted heating repairs? Canberra or somethin’?’ the first thug asked loudly.

‘Boss says it was all just a distraction for that one we’re chasin’ here,’ thug number two replied. ‘A way to keep him off our scent while the boss runs his real business, sneaky-like.’

‘Ah… so we’re not going to Australia then?’

‘Why would you want to go to Australia?’

‘We’d be able to see in front of our noses, for starts,’ the first thug grunted, followed by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.

‘Rolf?’ the second voice called out. ‘What is it?’

Rolf didn’t reply.

‘What the–’

A loud thwack echoed through the fog, and the second thug gave a stifled groan, then crumpled to the cobblestones.

A dark silhouette stalked confidently towards me from the fog – could it be?

‘Loque!’ I cried.

Dusting his hands, Loque gestured for me to follow him.

‘Is it true?’ I asked.

‘You’ll have to be more specific, my dear Radcliffe,’ Loque murmured, pipe produced once more.

‘The Canberra heating repairs?’ I offered. ‘Is it truly a bluff within a bluff?’

Loque struck a match and raised it to his pipe. I realised much later he must have pilfered a matchbook from one of the thugs, to replace his own, missing one.

Loque took two deep pulls from his pipe, the embers making his eyes sparkle.

‘The game is afoot,’ he whispered.

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A Revolutionary Idea

‘I just don’t know,’ Arlov sighed, shaking his head. ‘Has anybody else ever said yes to this proposal?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Ollena smiled, wiping the sweat from her brow as casually as possible to avoid showing how nervous she was. ‘Plenty of people.’

Arlov raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t working.

‘They said yes?’

‘Well, they didn’t say no, exactly…’

Arlov stood up from the table, sending his chair skating backwards. ‘Thank you,’ he said, curtly. ‘I’ve had a lovely time.’

‘Wait!’ Ollena threw herself over the corner of the table, rushing between him and the office door. ‘I promise, this isn’t as dumb as it sounds! It’s the latest trend in commercial office design! Melbourne is practically bursting with them!’

‘Miss…’

‘Baborovich!’ Ollena grinned.

‘Miss Baborovich,’ Arlov leaned in. ‘We aren’t in Melbourne, are we?’

‘Are you sure?’ Ollena tried, feebly. ‘There’s so much snow out there, it really could be any city.’

Arlov allowed himself a tight grin, then reached for his hat and jacket by the doorframe. Striding towards the elevator bank, he adjusted his hat. Dashing inside the waiting car, he turned back to Ollena.

‘Good day,’ he nodded. ‘For what it’s worth, I wish you luck.’

The doors slipped shut.

‘Dammit!’ Ollena growled to herself.

‘No luck?’ her assistant piped up from where he’d been hiding.

‘Not yet.’

‘That’s the spirit!’ he grinned at her. ‘Someone will recognise your genius soon enough!’

Ollena rolled her eyes. She turned and gestured at the display office they’d set up. ‘Not before this place sends me into debt!’

‘It’s a tricky business, affordable office space design. Around Melbourne–’

‘Oh, I know about Melbourne!’ Ollena snapped. ‘I’m the one who told you about Melbourne!’

She leant against one of the large, moveable walls set up in a row in the middle of the room and sighed.

‘Cubicles,’ she whispered to herself. ‘What a dumb idea. Who’s ever going to want to put cubicles in an office?’

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Bender’s Energy Explanation

Dr Dark McBane stood before all in attendance at the strange auto work theatre. He spread his arms wide, looking over at the Bender robot. “I will now explain what is going on here in excruciatingly unnecessary detail because that’s just something you do as a mad scientist right before a test.”

Maphira prepared to catch onto every detail, seeing as gathering information was the entire reason she’d allowed this to go on for so long.

“We are gathered here today to witness the historic first test of Project Bender, which the Conclave of Mechanists has been working on for many months now. After the previous head scientist mysteriously fell into a pit of crocodiles, I, Dr Dark McBane, took over the project and have brought it to its completion.”

Maphira had to bite her tongue, wanting to shout out that he should just get on with it. Better to let the doctor talk about all his evil robots and energy plans. She was half expecting him to start going on about the benefits of solar power for business.

“The Bender Bot has been designed to twist the minds of its victims, as a sort of basic mind control, if you will. Hence the name, bending the minds of those who oppose us. This test will involve Bender forcing the subject, Maphira, to reveal the location of the Resistance’s secret base. If all goes well, we will have an attack launched there by the end of the day.”

Oh my gosh, it’s straight out of Space Battles, Maphira thought. I’m Princess Lila and he’s Dark Invader. This is so lame.

“Is the solar panel calculator ready?” called Dr McBane.

“Yes, sir!”

“Are the energy cells and power systems turned on?”

“Yes, sir!”

Dr Dark McBane turned to Maphira and grinned. “Then Project Bender, it’s your time to shine. Find out where the Resistance base is, using whatever means necessary!”

 

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Weighing the Options

​​‘I just don’t see it,’ I sighed, crossing my arms.

‘You’ve got to use your imagination,’ my wife rushed over, grabbing me by the waist. ‘Think of the possibilities!’

‘I am thinking of the possibilities,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘The possibility that we’ll blow all of our savings on building a house that we won’t even like.’

‘Oh, we’ll like it,’ she laughed, slapping my arm. ‘And it’s actually quite a reasonable price at the moment.’

‘Reasonable?’ I asked. ‘You’re telling me there are reasonably priced luxury custom home builders on the Mornington Peninsula?’

She nodded and skipped over to the far edge of the property, a hill that looked down over the water.

‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ she breathed, as I stood behind her. ‘Don’t you want to wake up to that view?’

I glanced up at the sky.

‘That’s east,’ I muttered. ‘We’d be blinded by the sun every morning.’

‘Frank!’ she glared, spinning around. ‘Work with me here!’

‘I’m trying, honey,’ I protested. ‘I just don’t know that it’s a good idea!’

‘You never support me!’ she said, on the verge of tears. I bit back my retort and wrapped her in a hug.

‘Fine,’ I sighed, through gritted teeth. ‘I’ll meet these… contractors who design and build homes.’

‘You mean it?’ my wife asked, stepping back and grabbing my arms.

‘Why not?’ I strained a smile. ‘At least hear what they have to say, I guess.’

‘Oh, Frank,’ she beamed up at me. ‘We won’t regret this.’

‘Right,’ I nodded, already regretting it.

She skipped over to the other side of the plot of land, examining the trunk of an enormous tree. I joined her, running my hand along the bark.

Maybe I could see myself living here after all, I thought. Laying under this tree and its shade, reading a book, throwing a ball for a dog or, maybe, a son—

‘Well, that’ll have to go, obviously,’ my wife said, patting the tree.

‘What an eyesore!’

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Caught Talking

‘Load her up, boys!’ I heard the factory manager yelling behind us, slapping the side of the truck for good measure. I looked over my shoulder and frowned.

‘Load her up?’ I said to myself. ‘With what?’

‘Steel, probably,’ Mike shrugged, unwrapping his sandwich. He glanced over at my lunchbox. ‘What did you pack today?’

‘But what kind of steel?’ I asked, ignoring him. ‘We’re picking up steel from a reputable steel fabrication company. Melbourne companies like this have more than one kind of steel.’

‘The one we ordered then, geesh,’ Mike mumbled around a mouthful of bread.

‘But who’s the steel for? What job is this being sent to? How are we supposed to know what exactly we’re loading up?’

‘Did you forget your lunch?’ Mike frowned at me. ‘Is that why you’re grumpy?’

‘I’m not grumpy,’ I huffed. ‘I just appreciate clear instructions in an industrial setting.’

‘Right… so did you want half of mine, or—’

I snatched the sandwich triangle off him and shoved it into my mouth, starving.

‘It’s the principle of the thing!’ I mumbled, mouth full. ‘We can’t be picking up steel supplies around Melbourne without a clear line of communication from our managers!’

‘Is there a problem here?’

I twisted around to see who had spoken, and immediately began choking on the sandwich as I spotted the factory manager’s signature red vest. His eyes narrowed, and he made no move to help me as I struggled to breathe.

Mike jumped to his feet and pounded me on the back. It was in completely the wrong spot to actually help me, but at least it gave him something to do while I worked on clearing my airways.

Finally, I sucked in a deep breath and managed a smile. ‘Sir?’

‘Is there a problem, Samuel?’ he repeated. ‘Something you’d like to raise with your superior?’

‘No, sir,’ I grinned nervously. ‘Not from my end.’

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The Canberra Incident

‘How many times do I have to tell you?’ Ser Loque burst out, in one of his usual mid-case rages. Our landlady, Ms. East – who had rapped me on the knuckles for calling her “Mrs.” on the day of my moving in – hastily reached for the tea tray that sat beside Loque’s armchair.

‘No sugar, no sugar,’ she mumbled to herself as she rushed past me out of the room. I heard her murmur something about where Loque could place the sugar if he detested it so much, but felt it best not to listen too closely.

‘Tough case, old boy?’ I called out, tossing my hat onto the stand and unbuttoning my waistcoat.

Loque, predictably, didn’t hear me, glaring into the fire over steepled fingers.

Suddenly, he shot to his feet with a cry of triumph. He spotted me, and his grin spread wider at having an audience.

‘Radfcliffe!’ he beamed. ‘Who would be administering affordable ducted heating repairs near Canberra?!’

‘Canberra?’ I gaped at him. ‘Why Loque, I thought your case was in London?’

‘It is!’ he chuckled as he sped past me to his vast library. ‘But as usual, you’ve grasped at the tail of the problem – not the hound itself!’

He skidded to a slipper-aided stop in front of the wall of books, muttering to himself as he deciphered his incomprehensible organisation system, running his finger along the spines.

‘Ah-ha!’ he crowed, snatching a volume from the shelf, his finger sliding down the page even before the book was fully open in his hand. ‘Heating services, Canberra,’ he repeated to himself, eyes black with concentration.

His finger came to a stop a few lines from the bottom, and a change came over the man. Ashen white, even more so than usual, he put the book back on the shelf, eyes cloudy. Whatever they were focusing on, I sensed it wasn’t in this room, but rather the problem in his mind.

‘Loque?’ I asked, rushing to grasp his elbow. ‘What is it?’

Those dark eyes locked onto me, as he slowly shook his head. ‘The gramophone, Radcliffe,’ he rasped. ‘How did I miss the gramophone?’

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My Dance Event

You’ll never guess what kind of event I’m hosting in January. It’s an exclusive, invite-only showcase of Australia’s best dancing and artistry talent. Each performance is centred around the theme of the ocean, and I feel like all the entrants are going to be incredible. Think people dressed up as colourful jellyfish, dancing a soft ballet dance while streamers float out around them. I can picture it now: complete and utter magic.

There are a lot of surprises for the esteemed guests too. I’ve hired an event expert to assist me with designing the venue. Right now, we’re discussing the different types of ocean wallpaper that are available in the Australian market. We’re not sure if we’re going to have to start looking overseas if we can’t find exactly what we’d hoped for here. Basically, the wallpaper needs to cover a pretty large area, as the venue has high ceilings and more than enough room to fit several thousand people inside. Imagine a ballroom, just multiplied by, like, ten. Or maybe even more.

The wallpaper also has to be prepasted and removable, since obviously we do not own the ballroom and cannot do any damage to the paint on the walls, and in an attempt to cut costs I’m going to be sticking up the wallpaper all by myself. With the help of my event expert. And a ladder. I’m certainly not tall enough to reach the top of the ceilings otherwise.

I’ve come across this brilliant prepasted locally-designed dance wallpaper throughout my wallpaper research, and I literally cannot stop thinking about it. It’s so vibrant and beautiful, featuring dancers in motion. If we didn’t have such a rigid ocean theme, I would have purchased the dancing wallpaper immediately. I did manage to pick up some smaller decals with the same kind of vibe, and I’m going to stick them in the bathrooms as a fun little surprise for our guests.

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With A View

‘Gary… Gary, what is that?’

Gary looked up from his potted plant and set down the watering can, sauntering over to where his boss, Harvey, sat looking out of the window. The view was incredible, Gary had to concede. He didn’t know how any of those corner-office types actually got any work done. He supposed that was why their desks faced away from the glass.

‘Gary!’ Harvey snapped, bringing Gary back to attention.

‘Sorry sir?’

‘That,’ Harvey pointed across the street at the skyscraper opposite them. Gary walked closer to the glass, trying to see what he could be gesturing at. After a few moments of unsuccessful squinting, Harvey rolled his eyes and smacked a pair of binoculars into Gary’s side. Grimacing, Gary raised them up.

‘Stanley and Gable?’ he asked.

‘What the hell is going on in that firm?’ Harvey confirmed.

‘It looks like they’re just… renovating? Like they’ve hired a company who specialises in office design. Melbourne should only have a few, if you want me find out who they went w–’

‘I don’t care about that, you twit!’ Harvey snatched the binoculars away. ‘I care about the Henderson case!’

‘The big trial?’ Gary, asked, confused.

‘Yes,’ Harvey sighed, sinking back into his padded leather chair. ‘The big trial. The biggest trial. Stanley and Gable are our opposing council, and we go to court in a few weeks.’

‘Is that why you moved into this office?’ Gary frowned. ‘To keep an eye on them?’

‘No,’ Harvey shifted. ‘Maybe. Doesn’t matter. What matters is why they feel like they have time to… to… to organise new office fitouts! Melbourne isn’t known for its speedy renovation, dammit! We barely have time to change the coffee filters!’

‘They must have found someone good,’ Gary shrugged. ‘Quick and reliable.’

Harvey narrowed his eyes at the younger man. ‘You sound like you… know something. Do you know something, Gary?’

Gulping, Gary stepped back. ‘N-no, of course not, I was just saying–’

He ducked as a pair of binoculars went flying over his head, and quickly fled the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

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Bathroom Bunker

Hello beautiful people! Welcome back to another broadcast, right here from the Resistance base, by none other than yours truly, Mr Chowski! It’s time for another update on our constant battle against the wicked Conclave of Mechanists, and I don’t mean wicked meaning cool, I mean wicked meaning completely and totally evil. Those guys are bad news. Just look out onto the street and see how bad things are here in sunny Robotopia! 

Things have been going pretty well here, except for the fact that—what’s this? We’re experiencing some interference. It seems that another broadcaster is attempting to hack onto this station!

Sorry about that, folks, we’re back on the airwaves. But my goodness, what an announcement that was! It seems that the missing Maphira has discovered that the Mechanists are heading right for our base as we speak. She apparently organised for some bathroom designers based near Melbourne to create a secret hideaway, with the known secret exit actually being a trap! Isn’t that something?

Now, I know what you’re all thinking. Couldn’t this be a trap? What if the secret bunker created through bathroom renovations by a Melbourne business actually leads us to our doom? I hear you, folks, but let me tell you something right now. I know Maphira well, and she completely revolutionised this resistance in just a few days. We can trust her. Even if the Mechanists were forcing her to say something, she would never break. 

So, here’s Mr Chowski’s official advice: everybody at the Resistance base, head straight for the deluxe bathroom that has recently been remodelled and turn all the taps on hot, hot, hot! It’s the only way we’re going to survive this oncoming attack and live to fight another day. You heard me, let’s get moving! Even I’m heading there as soon as this broadcast ends. I’ll be continuing to send messages out right from the bunker, so keep an ear out!