�The old desk? That rickety old thing? Let me see�� said Japeto, turning to his paperwork, flicking through pages of his logbook, before replying, �I replaced it. Yes, I can see it here, look. I had a look round the place and your desk wasn�t very stable, and I thought to myself, �Now, Japeto, if you were examining particles, would you want to do it on a wobbly desk?� and of course, I wouldn�t, so I said to myself �I�ll do that young chap a favour, get him a new desk.� Yep, replaced it good and proper.�
�Yes,� said Duke, getting a little agitated, �but what did you do with the old desk, once you�d replaced it?�
�Oh!� Said Japeto, catching on; �I didn�t think it was worth much, so I put it on the compost heap. The worms like a bit of wood like that.�
�Did you see any papers on the desk, Japeto? This is important.� Said Duke.
�All that was on your desk I kept and put in your new desk.� Said Japeto.
�Right, thanks.� Said Duke, turning to the door to the gardens, to hunt for the compost heap.
�Hmmm.� Muttered Japeto, after Duke had left, as he pulled a little wooden puppet up onto the desk from underneath it, followed by a delicate toy-makers knife �Let�s give you a nice straight nose��
* * *
Upon reaching the gardens Duke realised he really should have asked where the compost heap liked to stay, for he really had no idea. The door behind him had shut with a studied click that in a single noise managed to remind him that he still didn�t have his pass card and that the door required one for access. He was left now with only his wits to guide him to the heap, for he felt he shouldn�t really break in again to his own workplace, not twice in one day.
So, our intrepid hero says to himself, almost under his breath, but just audible enough:
�Now, if I were a compost heap, where would I hang out?� He slowly scanned the confines of the garden, noticing novelty hedge, crazy paving (very aptly named, actually) and sparse grass but no mulch. I can only assume that at that point he thought to himself, �Ah, a compost heap loves rubbish!� for he visited the dustbins. There he found a very developed mould, but it wouldn�t tell him where the compost heap was, so he was once more stumped.
Duke took a while now, stumbling round the grounds, cursing his left leg which was still in pain from yesterday�s desk � bashing. He visited quite a lot of the grounds that he hadn�t realised existed, and by conjecture it seems he felt mildly enlightened after pausing awhile to reflect upon a sculpture on one of the lawns. Having finished, he seemingly felt a little more at peace with nature, and happier about his lot in life, for if the plants can find so peaceful an existence, why couldn�t he? Presumably, he didn�t even care about his papers now, nor the desk they were presumably hidden in, as he went home.
I followed Duke home, but he didn�t do anything more interesting than walk, so I�ll leave him for now, as he is probably just going to bed.
Duke is not the only person of interest in Fordford, and so I�ll show you one of the other characters; Mr Mann, whose first name, Algernon, meant for lots of hilarity when announced only by his first initial and surname. He was a farmer, a dairy farmer at that. Farmer Mann was not, however, a born farmer. Caught up in the romantic notions of farming fed to him by his darling wife, he quit his city accounting job and bought a farmstead and a herd on the outskirts of Fordford. This turned out to be a more difficult task than he had first imagined, and, indeed, most of his careful practice of straw chewing in front of a mirror turned out to be futile, as there was very little chance to use it in practical farming. The darling wife was also quickly disabused of her romantic farming notions and ran off with an actuary from Slough.
Twenty years and a crippling overdraft later, Algernon�s will to live was broken, his front carpet had left him due to the excessive amounts of muck and straw he tramped in, and he hated cows. He was, at this exact moment, walking past the Smith residence, as one of the residents had asked him to trim one of their trees. To this end he was carrying a chainsaw over his shoulder. Unfortunately Haberdashery was sat in the Smith garden at that time, watching the world go by, in a manner of speaking that is entirely inaccurate.
You might remember that Duke was named after a deceased canine, which died of a stampede of cows. The cows were Algernon�s. This has led to a bit of a lifelong spat between Haberdashery and Algernon, as Haberdashery blames the stampede entirely upon poor Algernon. The incidents have been endless, and entirely one-way in their brutality. Algernon has found (and fallen into) a six foot hole outside his front door, covered by the doormat and filled with marmite, all of his cows replaced with lambs which had markings identical to those of the cows they had replaced, drawn on with poster paint and, most recently, all the milk in his bulk tank turned into cheese, and poor quality cheddar with little retail value, not even a good stilton. These incidents all must have come at great cost, and each time, as Algernon has walked past the Smith residence there has been a wry smile upon Haberdashery�s face. They have never discussed any of these incidents, nor the stampede itself, but this hasn�t damped Haberdashery�s enthusiasm for meanness. There�s your abridged background.
This would explain why Algernon crossed the road as he walked pass the Smith bungalow, and why Haberdashery started growling slightly at the same time. Perhaps it was this growling that put Algernon off, or perhaps it was something else, but whatever the reason, he wasn�t concentrating on the road, and he got a bit of muck on his wellies. This is significant.
Algernon then cut down the trees, less significantly, but with a certain poise.
Duke had by now felt a little guilty for running away from work, and so he headed back out the door, prepared to slog it out a bit, and perhaps do some physics as well. He passed his father on the way out and gave a little grunt. Haberdashery didn�t reply; he was absorbed in staring at Algernon, in the hope that it would put him off and make him slice his arm off.
Duke thus continued and walked out the gate, crossing the road, avoiding the dung Algernon had stepped in, and walked on up the road, towards the research institute. At that very moment, Algernon noticed Haberdashery staring at him and lost concentration, slipped and fell, right on Duke�s head, chainsaw buzzing as it fell, closer and closer, clipping one of Duke�s hairs.
I�ll take this opportunity to tell you why FordFord is so called; otherwise you may get overexcited with all the chainsaw-based action going on. This isn�t a slasher movie after all (you can tell that by the fact that you are not in a cinema), so it isn�t right. Anyway, there was a river nearby called the river Ford, and an old man once...