Ask A Grown Up For Help (493 words)

The normally cheery presenter looks haunted. His eyes are bloodshot, he hasn't shaved for days, his greasy hair sticks out at angles from where he keeps rubbing at his head.

He sniffs, rubs his nose on the sleeve of his trademark red sweater, stares blankly into the camera and starts to deliver his spiel.

"Ok children" he says sadly, the love and warmth missing from his voice.

"For this you're going to need a piece of card, some scissors, glue, glitter and your felt-tips"

He looks down at his cluttered table and starts collecting what he needs.

"First off fold you card in half, you can do it either way depending on how you want it to stand up at the end. Next you want to get a pen... Or a pencil and start drawing your design.

It can be anything you want; I'm going for a broken heart because love is a cruel selfish game where nobody wins."

He starts to sob. He sighs, wipes his eyes and nose with his sleeves and tries to carry on.

"So you just draw your design on the front like this, make it nice a big so you have room to decorate it. Then you get the glue."

He reaches for the tub of white pva glue, opens it, takes a deep sniff, then a mouthful, he starts giggling and smacking his lips.

"aaah an excellent vintage! "

He has wanted to do this joke for years.

Putting the pot down he carries on with the job in hand spreading the glue across his design, the care he has put into his work over the years is long gone and he rarely stays inside the lines.

"Ok now the glue is on we need to act quickly before it dries, if you spread the glitter over it'll look pretty. I'm going to use my hair"

He picks the scissors up and starts hacking at the unkempt mess on top of his head. Smearing the hair onto the glue he starts sobbing again.

"She always liked my hair." He says "She said it made me look cheeky."

He stops and admires his work; he knows how bad it looks but is passed caring anymore. He looks at his hand; clumps of hair are stuck to his palms.

"Mother always said I'd get hairy palms" he chuckles.

He picks the scissors up; they are a safety pair like you would see in a primary school, his prime audience.

"Remember kids it's up the street not across the road!" He says as he tries to draw the plastic blade up his wrist.

It leaves an angry looking red scratch but doesn't break the skin.

"Can't even do that right" He says sadly.

The terrified camera man switches his machine off, walks over to the broken shell of a man and puts his arm around him.

"Come on Neil, why don't we get you a cup of tea eh?"

1 comment:

  1. Disturbing but very clever.. poor Mr Bucchanan .