said this, they had already finished their meal and proceeded, some enthusiastic, others very skeptical, or should I say ‘fery skeptical’, but as soon as they entered the laboratory they saw the man they knew as Mr. Al, picking up some boxes. At first they didn’t see anything odd, but when Schrödinger asked them to shut the door and open the door behind them, where the studio with the playing cards was, repeating this action numerous times, it was like seeing a movie, frame by frame, of both the solitaire game being played and the work being done (even if poorly done, very poorly).
‘Shpooky action at a distance,’ Einstein mumbled to himself.
They were all astonished.
They returned to the dining room in silence. Fermi set aside the bottle of sherry, for he thought he was drunk. Oppenheimer grabbed it and starting pouring and drinking it. Bohr was as pale as a ghost and Schrödinger had a victorious grin on his face. Einstein was the first to speak.
‘Zis cannot be. God does not throw dice…’
And as they were about to discuss that, a voice said ‘But I do.’
Next to them, was a white bearded man, in a white tuxedo. They couldn’t believe it.
Fermi yelled. And Annemarie asked from the kitchen if everything was alright, her husband, eyes wide open, told her that everything was fine.
‘Just some boring physics discussions,’ he said.
‘Dear Gods, zis cannot be.’
‘Just God, please.’
And from another corner of the room came another voice, a silky, glamorous voice. ‘But it can, and in fact it is. Actually my…’ the man, dressed in a black tuxedo, with a red tie, paused momentarily ‘…my colleague, does in fact have a gambling problem.’
Oppenheimer rubbed his eyes, this had been the weirdest night ever, or at least since he graduated university, and so he went for another bottle of sherry.
‘Seeing that you uncovered one of life’s greatest mysteries I thought I could pop by, just briefly of course, to congratulate you.’
‘Yes, just briefly, The Price is Right is about to start,’ added the man in the black tuxedo.
‘The vhat now?’ asked Einstein, who was still the only man capable of speech at the present time.
‘Oh, yes, yes, well, congratulations and all on this. Ciao.’ And God left just as quickly as he had appeared.
‘Never mind him,’ said the devil, ‘but I do want to talk to you, Mr Albert. My name’s Erik Macintyre Colbert… the Second.’ He smiled.
‘I tought you vere the devil.’
‘Oh, the devil is such a bad name, the truth is that my name is actually Erik, Erik Macintyre Colbert the Second, never forget it.’ He handed a business card to Einstein with is initials ‘E.M.C II’.
‘Bye now, and go easy on that sherry Mr Oppenheimer,’ and the devil, err, Erik disappeared.
The rest of the night was spent in silence and self-reflection. Albert kept looking at the card that was given to him. Schrödinger kept leaving and returning to the room. Fermi kept testing his breath for alcohol. Bohr was just gazing through the window and the only one interrupting the silence, was Oppenheimer every now and then, repeating the same phrase in a very sluggish voice.
‘Now am I become Drunk, the destroyer of Words.’
###
So, you made it to the end. If only making through the end of the day was this easy…
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if you loathed it, then you’re probably one of the bosses.
Other books by Donovan Sotam:
Working for Heat - Vol. I
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@DSotam
Working for Heat - Volume II Page 6
