A week in the life of a property developer

A Week in the life of a property developer.

Monday: Hello John, where do you want these skips put?

My name is not John.

I know John but where shall I put the skips.

I’ve told you my name is not John.

Ok, ok what is your name?

Godfrey Oliver Donaldson.

Godfrey Oliver Donaldson, what kind of a name is that; oh no don’t tell me you’re a bloody Scot;

I haven’t decided yet.

If you’re a Scotsman we are going to have real trouble, if I tell my lads we’re working for Scotsman they will be off the site in ten minutes flat. Not that we’ve actually got time at the moment, but they will certainly be off quicker than you can say big bang. I know they are only hairy bog men from the alpha quadrant of the Milky Way but they do hate the Scots. Your not a Celtic supporter are you they hate Celtic supporters even more.

I’m not sure; I haven’t created a social order yet.

Well when you do be very careful, those Celtic supporters are murder.

I’ll bear it in mind.

Godfrey Oliver Donaldson I can’t call you that there’d be a riot; tell you what G.O.D I’ll call you God for short.

Better, much better!

Anyway God the questions the same where shall I put all these skips I’ve got two hundred and fifty billion of them and they are beginning to pen and ink.

What’s in the skips may I ask?

Well it say’s on the docket “primeval swamp, can’t think why you need all that muck but you’re the boss.

As you say I’m the boss, just spread it all over the planets surface, give it a good stir then just leave it.

One other thing God; when I was leaving yesterday I noticed billions of seawater tankers on the dock marked destination Earth; how are you going to get the empties back? 

We’ll use the new Cosmological Motorway shouldn’t take too long.

What do you mean won’t take too long it was only built last millennium and already it’s taking three times the traffic it was designed for?

I’m sure it will be ok, trust me I’m God.

It’s all right for you rich property developer’s one big job like this and you can retire for life; but think of the little people struggling to ferry all those containers back it will take forever.

You may have forever! 

What do you want all that seawater for anyway? We’ve dug a beautiful big hole called the Pacific Basin and now all you want us to do is flood it, seems daft to me.

Don’t worry I am sure it will be good!

Tuesday; Morning John.

I’ve told you!

Sorry God, anyway we’ve got a couple of problems; who’s the sparks on this job, its pitch black out there and my lads can’t work in the dark. All very well having a light on your helmet, but you can’t see far enough. One of the lads fell into the Atlantic trench yesterday and it took us ages to get him out.

The sparks as you call him is Xavier Sunshine from the Beta Quadrant.

Oh no not him, he’s useless; I wouldn’t let him loose on a supernova let alone a living planet.

I did the wire ring diagram myself believe me the light will be good.

Well I hope so. Anyway we’ve got a bigger problem the lads are adamant it has to be double time on Sunday, otherwise they down tools.

Impossible it’s a fixed price contract and there’s no money in the budget for overtime on Sunday; can’t be done.

Ok but on your own head be it!

Wednesday: Well God there is good news and bad news.

Give me the good news.

The lads have decided that if its job and finish they will work till Saturday and have the day off on Sunday as long as you supply the ambrosia and nectar for the end of project party.

Done! And what’s the bad news.

Well the planet keeps tilting. We set it at between 16 and 22 degrees like the blueprint says and in no time at all it’s upright again.

Strange I’ll have to look at the calculations again, just a minute.Yes, we’ll have to have a moon; we will have to build a moon.

No one said nothing about a moon, that will have to be a new contract and I’m not sure the lads will do it.

Listen my Bolshevik friend if we don’t build a moon the whole project will have to be abandoned and then nobody gets paid!

Well whose faults that?

A couple of the equations were incorrect and the only way to balance the whole project is a moon.

I’ll put it to the lads but they will not be happy.

Now I come to think of it we can also use the moon to control the tides.

What are tides?

Don’t worry just get on with the job.

Thursday: We may get the job done by Saturday God but we shall have to cut some corners.

Like what!

Well some of the coastlines will have to be left very rough, mountain ranges all jagged and the majority of the planet will have to be flooded with seawater.

Not a problem we’ll just have to manage!

Friday: Morning God, we are just releasing the wild life, the lads are having fun with that oozerlem bird; its no sooner out of the box than it fly’s backwards at great speed and then vanishes. It’ll be extinct before it’s even started. The lad’s recon it disappears up its own!

Yes, Yes, all right we just got the specification a little wrong; all the other species seem to be ok, good work.

Saturday: Well God we are almost finished, too many rough edges for my liking but you’re the boss. We could take some super sand paper to the mountain ranges and flatten them of a bit, wouldn’t take too long.

Don’t worry the design called for them to be jagged.

Anyway the lads are looking forward to the party before getting started on the moon. There is only one small problem; we were just tidying up this morning when a large crate arrived. It was so big the lads didn’t want to touch it.

What’s in the crate?

Well it says on the docket two Homo sapiens, a large talking snake and an even bigger tree. E’r what’s a talking snake?

Don’t worry yourself about it, the whole thing is called a creation myth, gives the lower orders something they can believe in. Just bung the whole lot in the East Dulwich embryo nursery and we can be off. Tell the lads they did a good job!

 1135 words.