27.11.09
The Nutcracker – A Childrens Story
by Ian Shearer

‘Look I’m getting tired of this date thing.’ I was in Paul’s office. Dealing with Johnny has become impossible lately. He just tells me to do what he says or he’ll publish the pictures from Halloween, which apparently give new meaning to the term “horse riding”.
‘Already? How come?’
‘I don’t know… I feel like I’m running out of steam. No one is interested any more. Including me.’
‘Have you ever done this before?’ While we were talking he was trying to set up Sky Plus on the TV in his office. I don’t even have an office.
‘No, I can’t afford that sort of thing. You don’t pay me,’ I said.
‘Really? How did we manage that?’ I just stared at him.
‘Are you telling me you pay the other writers?’
‘What the hell does Program Setup Code mean?’
‘Look Paul, we need to shake things up a bit. I can’t just keep writing about the same thing. I need to keep it original.’
‘By all means, shake things up. That’s why we brought you on board.’ He opened the installation guide.
‘Yeah but…’ And then he spun his chair around to face away from me. I guessed the meeting was over.
I showed up to the cinema in a bad mood. I am pretty much always in a bad mood but I was also pissed off that there had apparently been no change to the format whatsoever. Another goddamn movie date. Johnny was standing outside with some kid.
‘What the fuck man?’ I asked.
‘No bad words!’ shouted the kid. I glared at her. She returned the glare.
‘What’s up?’ asked Johnny.
‘Why the hell am I still reviewing a movie? And where’s the broad?’ He glanced down at the kid, who was now texting.
‘No fucking way!’
‘Hey!’ she yelled, and stomped on my foot. ‘No. Bad. Words,’ she said, pointing at me.
‘Myeh, myeh, myeh,’ I mocked.
‘This is Sally, my niece,’ said Johnny.
‘I’m not taking a kid to the movies.’
‘Why not? It’s something new and it’s bound to be a funny story.’
‘I’m not doing it Johnny. I don’t do kids.’
‘That’s good to hear, otherwise I wouldn’t leave her with you,’ he laughed, ‘you two have fun,’ he said, and just sauntered off.
‘Why is your hair like that?’ she asked me.
‘Like what?’
‘Like… stupid.’
‘If you shut up I’ll buy you sweets.’ She did, and went back to texting.
At the ticket desk I asked for two tickets for Taking Woodstock. The woman looked at me like I just told her I gave her Chlamydia.
‘That film is rated 15.’
‘She is 15,’ I said, ‘she’s a midget.’
‘I’m not 15, said Sally, ‘I’m 7.’ The woman at the desk smiled at her.
‘Aw, aren’t you cute. Is your big brother taking you to the movies?’
‘He’s not my big brother. He’s just some guy. He said he’d buy me sweets.’ The woman looked at me, horrified.
‘She’s my friend’s niece, alright. Just give me two tickets for An Education.’
‘What’s that about?’ asked the kid.
‘It’s about some guy who seduces an underage girl,’ I told her. The ticket lady gave me the dirtiest look I have seen since I drank all the champagne at a house-warming party and threw up. ‘Oh for fuck sake,’ I said, and the kid punched me in the ass. It actually really hurt.
At the concession stand she told me she wanted pick n mix.
‘Alright kid, knock yourself out,’ I said, and she filled a bag.
‘That’s £8.75,’ said the guy, after he weighed it.
‘Jesus kid, what did you put in there?’
‘And ice cream and a Coke,’ she said. The guy found this very funny and started to pour her Coke.
‘Where would be the best place to hide a body?’ I asked him, just as the ticket lady was walking past. She glared at me, then bent down and whispered something in the kid’s ear. The joke was on her though; I looked right down her shirt and didn’t even try to cover it up.
I had actually wanted to see An Education, and not just for tips on picking up 16 year old girls. I like the whole rebellious teenager thing, and I like to think that if I was growing up in Sixties London [Editor’s Note: You’d fall for a handsome older man!?] I’d want to go to Paris and listen to classical music and smoke and read Camus. The movie captures that spirit perfectly without ever being heavy handed. Same goes for the performances, all of which are pitch perfect, despite nearly all of the characters being much more complex than is standard for movies along these lines. It is a mature but light-hearted film that treats its subject matter with much more respect than I have come to expect, probably because it is based on some lady’s memoirs rather than some half-assed, contrived Hollywood script. Brass tacks, I had a bloody good time watching it. Christ, sometimes I really do sound like a film critic.
After the movie we bumped into this girl I know from work. She has probably the biggest boobs I have ever seen, and despite being incredibly hot, she actually talks to me. She was with her equally hot friend and looked as pleased to see me as I was to see her (boobs). I soon realised this was because of the kid, whom they were gushing over like typical dames.
‘Aw, who’s this?’ she asked.
‘This is Sally. She’s my friend’s niece,’ I said.
‘Aw and did you just take her to see a movie?’
‘I sure did.’
‘Aww! I didn’t know you liked kids.’
‘Well, anything to see a wee smile on her face,’ I said, and patted the kid on the head. ‘You want to join us…’ Sally rudely interrupted my pick up line with a massive kick to my nuts. Then she ran off screaming, ‘Help! Help!’ I went down like a cheap hooker and fought back the tears.
Just about the time I limped back to my feet, two cops showed up to question me about the kid. They didn’t let me go until Johnny showed up to verify my story. As he drove me to the hospital I got a chance to question the kid.
‘Jesus Sally, what was that about?’
‘The lady in the cinema said if you touch me I should kick you in the privates and run away,’ she said. The kind lady had also been kind enough to call the police, it seems. At the hospital they treated me for a dislocated testicle, something I didn’t even know was possible. As I sat there with a bag of ice pressed against my nuts, Johnny appeared.
‘You know what man?’ I said, ‘from now on we’ll stick to the regular format.’
Related Posts
- How I Came To Be A Bandwidth Writer: Truly, A 100% Story A new weekly.. er.. review from the “gifted” author of...
- Nuthin’ But A G-String The phone woke me up. ‘What?’ I answered. ‘Did I...


23.08.10
20.08.10
12.06.10
03.04.10