NEXT TIME ON THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF CORMORAN STRIKE!

Narrator: NEXT TIME ON THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF CORMORAN STRIKE!

[Setting: Interior: Cormoran Strike’s office]

Robin: Cormoran, my secret… the reason I dropped out of university and only did temp work like some common working class criminal Luddite with only 24 GCSEs, 18 A Levels, a Duke of Edinburgh (with honours), a George cross for bravery and a GNVQ in Hospitality to my name is…

Strike: – You’re ginger? I mean I thought it was a bit of a piss take when your parents called their red haired daughter that to be honest. And what if you got sun burn on your chest? Let alone that time on the stairs when I grabbed your –

Robin: – No! Shut up! It’s because…

Strike: – Because you’re an underdeveloped two dimensional cliche written by an author who knew she would have a multi-book deal in order to flesh out your characterisation. Thus s/he only did a very basic introduction to us in the first book as if s/he has all the time in the world to do so later on?

Robin: … No and that’s a little too meta-narrative for me and my delicate, yet vastly superior to yours, feminine intellect which can only conceive of marriage and dresses (and getting qualified as a detective to take work away from you). It’s because…

Strike: – Wait, what was that last bit you muttered under your breath?

Robin: Oh, nothing… anyway my secret is…

[Suddenly a large hairy man leans in through the window knocking the wall down in the process due to his semi-gigantic physique]

Strike: … you’re a wizard Robby? Oh, wait, wrong series… and I wouldn’t know anything about that hidden wizarding world anyway… even if this office is located on Charing Cross Road, the same street as the Leaky Cauldron and, as a Muggle, I should be completely unaware of its existence… though, as a detective, I notice blatantly ‘wizardy looking’ people going in and out of that place constantly. Well at least you’re not from the village of On Pagford. There’s a bunch of wankers on the Parish council there…

Robin: No, it’s because…

[Suddenly another large bearded man, with a boy on his back, walks in]

Hodor: Hodor? Hodor, hodor.

Bran: Hi, I’m here for the meeting of literary characters with bird themed names.

Cormoran: No sorry mate, that’s later tonight across the street. (And anyway my name’s Cormoran not Cormorant. Irish giant not a bird...) You and beardy will have to go sit in the park and stare at the tree that kind of looks like it’s got a bleeding face for a while. Or the pub. I know a really tolerant pub nearby. But hold the door for the other big beardy bloke to leave first as he’s got something crawling out his pockets.

Hagrid: It’s a dragon’s egg…

Bran: A Targeryen!?

Hagrid: No, I’m a septuagenarian actually. Back’s been giving me right trouble recently…

[exit both large bearded men. One slowly dragging a torn off door behind him]

Robin: No! My secret is…

 

Narrator: NEXT TIME ON THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF CORMORAN STRIKE!


I’ve seen a lot of misleading ‘next time’ teasers in recent years. I suppose that’s their purpose in a way but it can be very annoying when it’s a fake out such as the teaser includes something that gets cut away from before the ‘reveal’ moment or it’s the final moment of the next episode so in fact acts as a teaser not for the next episode but the one after that.

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An Interaction At The Workplace

Today I was waiting to be served when I heard the checkout staff having a conversation.

Dramatis Personae of the skit:
Troll Girl – about 4 foot tall, rectangular head with greasy blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She wears a red t-shirt with baggy trousers and has the bored yet dazed expression of cattle. He voice is low and ejaculated in the warped guttural growl caused by speaking the patois of the valleys. She is ageless. I would guess early twenties but she could be anywhere between 16 to 40 her features are of such a strangely timelessly blank setting.
Young Man – About 5 foot 9 inches, so not ‘manly tall’ but sufficiently enough he towered over the girl. An oval face with a gelled Mohawk hairstyle and skin slightly too pink as if he had used defoliating pads excessively. Wears a black buttoned up shirt and matching trousers. He is likely in his early 20s but could be younger.

TG: So how you getta invite to sucha fancy doo den? I din get invited…
YM: Dunno, they just asked me.
TG: You gonna weara rented tux like you said you was? You gonna cumin an’ show me it before you go?
YM: (visibly uncomfortable) Um… no I will probably go straight there since its straight after work and I’ll only have enough time to get ready before leaving.

Sometimes I wonder if people don’t know how to respect co-worker’s boundaries. Often I think I am perhaps asking too much of co-workers sometimes but, on the other hand, it is to show an interest in them as an individual outside of being a co-worker and often I just hope it sparks a conversation over potential common ground we may not have been aware of otherwise. More often than not I feel like I am being needlessly nosey though. Maybe I am… I hope not…The girl seemed needlessly intrusive and passive aggressive. I got the impression the guy had been invited to something prestegious so there was a bit of projected jealousy being taken out on him needlessly.

… Saying that he put a bottle of barbeque sauce in with my new, light coloured, coat so I can’t give him that much sympathy as cruel as it sounds. Decorum and all that hey what old chap. Bit of the old common sense. Buying a new coat here – wouldn’t mind having an extra bag to ensure I don’t need to risk returning with a complaint of ‘the reason the coat is damaged is your staff don’t practice due care in their duties’. Probably would fight tooth and nail not to give a refund, replacement or credit note. Kind of get the impression it could be that kind of place.

We have to pay for carrier bags in shops here in Wales in case you were unaware. 5 pence per carrier bag they charge! Where does that money go? The government told businesses to charge for bags but not what to do with the money they take for them. Some give it to charity while others treat it as an extra bit of profit. It was meant to put people off wasting plastic bags or littering with them, in order to aid national recycling efforts, but it seems to have had no real effect except that one time a celebrity was seen with a give-a-way fabric bag and crowds flocked to have one of their own as conscientiously dedicated followers of fashion.


Yes I had nothing to write today… thus you get a little bit of rambling but then what did you expect to find on a blog called ‘Rambling At The BridgeHead’?

Tomorrow… Who knows what I will write. Something more interesting hopefully.