Plot Holes

Let me tell you a story.

Please.

Just one. It doesn't have to be today. It can be any time. When's good for you? Check your calendar.

No, I can't do the 28th.

No. No, actually July is a busy month for me.

No good then either.

Oh. OK, yeah. That sounds... no hang on. No, sorry. That's the day of my clone's christening. Can you do the following Monday? What about the pursuing Thursday?

I'll tell you what, how about Christmas? I can tell you a story before your children are awake.

No?

No. I suppose you're right. I understand. Christmas is a family time.

Well, never mind. We'll forget about it.

Maybe I can fax you something. I'd better check to see if my fax machine is working. Now, let me see...

Please.

Just let me see.

Go on.

Please.

Fine.

Fine.

***

Once upon a time there was an ogre called Judith.

Judith had big hands, even by common ogre standards. She was ostracised because of this. The other ogres used to call her "tight gloves", "The Perennial Fist", and other hurtful names. This caused Judith to feel insecure and alone. She developed an eating disorder in her dark room and felt very sad.

One day, whilst walking to Debenhams, Judith noticed a commotion. A cat was trapped in a tree, which had subsequently fallen down a manhole. A whole crowd of onlookers gathered round, discussing what should be done.

A policeman had taken off his hat and was rubbing his bald head in consternation. "We can't reach that cat," he said."None of our officers can reach the cat, and any tools or implements we might use are likely to frighten the poor thing. It might fall off the tree and land in the sewer."

Another police officer, who had been reaching into the manhole, pulled out her tiny hands and shook her head. "I'm stumped," she said.

Though Judith was lonely, she was always eager to help those in need. 

"Excuse me," said Judith. "I think I can help."

This was a tremendous act of bravery for Judith. She was very nervous of talking to strangers. She had learned that any conversation was likely to lead to hand-based teasing. Also, she was an ogre, which tended to make people suspicious. But she put aside her fears, realising that the threat to the cat outweighed her own insecurities.

"I'd like to know how!" said the policeman, sceptically. "It would take someone with massive hands to remove the cat from this predicament".

"Well that's the thing," said Judith. "I happen to have a cat magnet. I designed it myself."

She pulled the cat magnet out of her pockets.

"My word!" exclaimed the policeman. "I'm terribly sorry for my rudeness! This looks like just the thing."

Within forty-five seconds, the cat had been pulled out of the tree out of the manhole, and was safely back with its owners (a girl called Nicki and her father who was mute).

"How can we thank you?" asked Nicki.

"There's no need for that. It's what anyone would have done. I was just happy to help."

The story of Judith's heroics spread throughout the town (in both human and ogre communities).

The people who had teased her about her large hands were all very contrite.

"We're so sorry!" they all said. "If massive hands can forge a cat magnet, perhaps we should all have massive hands!"

From then on, large hands were perceived as an indicator of strength and beauty, and Judith was friends with everyone. She found a lot of them quite annoying, but some of them were really nice, and enjoyed spending time with her. Her hand size wasn't even an issue.

Judith started using her dark room for photographs, and her work was published in the local newspaper and various glossy magazines. Her subjects included her friends, her hands, and thousands of magnetised cats. 

With her new-found wealth, she underwent hand reduction surgery, but this was for health rather than cosmetic reasons. She felt a lot better afterwards.

The End

***

My children are going to be very lucky to have this quality of story barked at them on a daily basis. They'll beg me to stop. "No, Daddy! It's TOO INTERESTING." And I will stop. Because I'm not a monster.

The human head is a fascinating thing.