by Michael Bollen
ISBN: 978 0556105 3 0
356pp paperback
£9.99
"A funny, charming,
inventive comic novel. Michael
Bollen’s warmth, sharp
wit and eye for satirical
detail reminded me of Douglas
Adams. Quite possibly the
best work of fiction since
The Bible."
Stephen Merchant, The
Office, Extras |
Extract 2: Jorj Wakes
Up
Jorj was asleep, and his subconscious
was trying to keep it that way.
It had been a struggle to go back
to bed at 10.30 on a Thursday
morning, and he wasn’t about
to spoil it all by waking up now.
His phone had been ringing for
the last five minutes. Tiny speakers
implanted in Jorj’s ears
were emitting a tinny, repetitious
tune. Jorj wedged his head under
a pillow, but it made no difference.
The sound was on the inside.
The ringing stopped and the phone
switched senses. Microscopic devices
inside Jorj’s nostrils released
several hundred molecules, which
were swiftly inhaled. He could
smell burning, but still he slept.
His nose insisted that the room
was filling up with burning tyres.
And blazing skunks. And now his
feet were on fire.
Jorj’s eyes opened, showing
panic and fear, which faded to
irritation as he realised it was
just his phone. The panic and
fear returned as he remembered
which sense was next. He swallowed
cautiously. There was already
just a hint of meaty chunks in
marrowbone jelly. If he wasn’t
quick the taste of dog food would
turn into the taste of what dog
food turned into...
He tapped desperately at the paper-thin
screen attached to his left wrist.
The dog food taste disappeared,
and Jorj’s earpieces came
to life again, this time playing
the sound of his own voice. ‘Hi
Jorj, er, yes, this is the message
telling you that you’re
probably in trouble. Something’s
gone very badly wrong, and you’re
sleeping through it. So get up.
Er, sorry about that.’
Jorj climbed out of bed. His hair
had got up several hours before
him and was standing vertically
on his head. His face was unhappy
and unshaven. He stretched, feeling
all of his seventeen years, and
quite a few of someone else’s.
Grumbling to himself, he pulled
on some trousers until they were
yanked free from the tangle of
clothes on the floor. This is
could be very bad, he thought,
putting them on.
A few minutes later Jorj was outside,
walking as quickly as his scrawny
frame would allow. He had been
pushing his luck recently, and
only now did he realise how stupid
that had been. His life to date
proved that he didn’t actually
have any luck, and if you push
something that doesn’t exist
you end up falling flat on your
face.
Jorj awoke from his miserable
reverie as a desperate-looking
man pushed past him. Jorj looked
over his shoulder and saw three
men running towards him, brandishing
guns. They wore the bright red
uniform of O’Connels Burger
Restaurants. ‘Stop him!’
shouted one.
‘Er…’ said Jorj,
shrugging ineffectually. Spontaneous
social interaction was not his
forte. The uniformed men pushed
past him as well, chasing their
quarry. The running man had a
lead of about twenty metres, but
as Jorj watched, the man stumbled
and fell to the floor. His pursuers
surrounded him, brandishing their
weapons. Jorj tiptoed past, avoiding
eye contact.
One of the red-clad men addressed
the prisoner. ‘As a three
star crewmember of O’Connels
Restaurants, I am qualified to
make a Big Con and Cheese, work
on the fly-thru counter and conduct
crime scene investigations. I’m
placing you under arrest,’
he said. ‘You are accused
of theft, evading arrest and unlicensed
unemployment. The penalties for
these crimes include an unlimited
fine, imprisonment, or loss of
Shareholder status. Do you have
any questions?’
‘Yes,’ said the captured
man bitterly. ‘Do I get
fries with that?’
Jorj hurried on.
It was inevitable really. The
staff of O’Connels burger
restaurants had done an excellent
job defending company property
during the corporations’
hostile takeover of planet Earth.
The new world order needed a new
police force, and O’Connels
wanted the job.
Soon after taking control of the
planet, the heads of the corporations
met to discuss their plans. When
talk turned to global law enforcement,
the C.E.O. of O’Connels
pointed out that their staff were
of a high calibre, commanded respect
from the general public, and already
had the uniforms.
The discussions continued.
‘Okay, you’ve made
your point,’ said the head
of O’Connels. ‘But
we do already have the uniforms.’
And that appeared to be the deciding
factor.
O’Connels attempted to rebrand
their cops as “Law Buddies”,
but it didn’t really catch
on. They had a slogan though:
Justice within two minutes or
you go free.
More about Earth Inc.
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