“There are a few, how shall I put this, outstanding debts!”
“Debts?” said Marley, becoming suspicious, “What debts?”
“Unpaid bills, unpaid ground rent, unpaid council tax, unpaid Grumpy Trumper wages, unpaid waste requisition, unpaid waste distribution, unpaid Whi-ffi service provider, unpaid grot import tax, unpaid eel food. That sort of thing.”
“How much?”
“Let me just see… one… two… three… Ah, yes…three hundred squadrillion pounds.”
Grandpop Fred came over and listened at the phone.
“But we don’t have the money for those kinds of bills!”
“Well, you and your family are completely responsible in law for paying it all!”
“We’ll have to sell the laboratory.”
“You don’t own the laboratory, Marley. It’s only rented and we haven’t paid the rent for two years!”
“And when is the deadline for paying this money?”
“What time is it now?”
“About three o’clock,” said Marley.
“Three o’clock!” said Plonka, “Bye!”
And the line went dead.
Grandpop and Marley stared at each and their mouths slowly dropped open.
They continued to stare as their minds slowly processed what their ears had just heard.
Tick, tick, tick went the clock.
Three hundred squadrillion pounds!
Bong, bong, bong went the clock.
Suddenly the office exploded in an ear-rupturing cacophony of pinging, ringing phones, swirling, whirring faxes and binging, dinging emails. Each incessant message wailing to be noticed.
Suddenly every doorbell in the laboratory was buzzing endlessly and relentlessly. Bills and letters and cards and final demands were being pushed and thrust through letter box, window and every spare hole in the building. As Marley and Grandpop Fred looked out of the grimy window a motorcade of blaring police vans with flashing blue and red lights was approaching the laboratory.
Marley sneezed in his hand, slapped his forehead and said, “Scumpiddlinoxious!”
IAN BILLINGS was born at a young age. He is a writer of books, plays and pantomimes, a reformed juggler, actor, lecturer and general dabbler in many areas.
His books include -
SAM HAWKINS, PIRATE DETECTIVE, AND THE CUTGLASS CUTLASS
SAM HAWKINS AND THE POINTY HEAD LIGHTHOUSE
CHOCOLATE MELTDOWN
C.O.R.G.I. AND THE PURSUIT OF THE PRINCE’S PANT
SNOT MONSTER
IAN BILLINGS’ LOST PROPERTY and
BORN TO GIGGLE for SAVE THE CHILDREN
When he is not at home writing or feeding his cat, Harriet, he is travelling the world making children laugh with his stand-up comedy show. So far he has performed in UK, Australia, Cyprus, Germany, Switzerland, Russian, Thailand, Jordan, Oman, Vietnam, UAE, Uganda, Kenya and a firestation.
He was once described by an audience member as “The most imaginative adult I’ve ever met” and by one of his teachers as “Hopeless.”
To find out more please visit his wobble site - www.ianbillings.com
[email protected]
www.ianbillings.com
@mrianbillings
© Ian Billings 2015
Cover illustrations by Mark Beech
Published by Tiddley Pom 2015
Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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