Tag Archives: cell phone

1970. Gadget man

Morton was a fiddler in the gadgetry sense. He could fix anything. He could make anything. He could invent anything. Somethings were useful; some were not. The silliest thing he made was probably “A box of birds”. A little white box with a button sat on the coffee table. Next to the button was a little sign that said “Press me”. Guests would press the button and recordings of birds emanating from all over the room suddenly began to play. Loudly. If the guest had been left alone in the room while Morton was out making coffee for the guest, the pressing of the button could prove to be a hilarious humiliation!

Morton more often than not was the one who was out making the coffee because his wife, Catalina, was useless. She never lifted a finger to help. In fact Morton was often left alone to entertain visitors. Enough is enough! Morton decided to construct the perfect murder!

He took an old cell phone, removed its innards, and replaced the inside with a poisonous dart. There was nothing to show that it wasn’t a phone. The next time he was out shopping with Catalina he spied a tourist near the village green and asked if they would be so kind to take a photograph with his phone. Of course, the tourist was most obliging. “Just that woman over there. I don’t want to get caught photographing her, because I’m a spy and she’s some sort of foreign government agent. Just point the phone at her and press the button.”

“A spy! Which button do I press?” asked the tourist.

“That one there,” said Morton, leaning over the phone and pointing.

Morton is a gadget man no more.

1851. Memory lapse

Vernon was the head organist at a notable cathedral in a major city. (It’s no use trying to guess where it was because this is fiction). Vernon couldn’t remember how many sermons he had endured.

During the sermon Vernon used to pop out onto the tower balcony for a quick cigarette. He could easily duck out because he was in the organ loft high above the clergy and congregation. He looked way down on them and his disappearance would not be noticed from below.

He could vaguely hear the preacher from the tower balcony. Sometimes, if the preacher droned on, Vernon could have several cigarettes. Being the only one ever to use the balcony (it was blocked to tourists) Vernon had an old plum jam tin where he chucked his butts. It was a large tin, and in the eleven years of being the head organist he had emptied it three times. As he said to his wife, “It shows you how many sermons I’ve endured.”

On this particular Sunday (it being a notable feast day) the visiting preacher was particularly wordy. Vernon was hearing for the third time that “perdition awaits those who don’t agree” when he realized he had accidentally locked himself out on the cathedral tower balcony.

This was the very weekend that his wife had gone to visit her elderly mother in another city quite distant from the cathedral city. His disappearance would not be noticed.

What a shemozzles! No one could hear him call out and he’d locked the door from the church up into the organ loft, so no one could dash up to find out why he wasn’t intoning the hymns on the organ. Nor was it one of those Sundays when the choir was there.

The visiting clergyman used his initiative, and in the event of not having an organist simply intoned the opening words of each hymn and the congregation took it up without accompaniment.

The service was over. Everyone went home, except for Vernon high in the tower locked out on the little balcony.

The day turned into afternoon; the afternoon to evening; the evening to night. It was starting to get cold; very cold. Vernon had wet his pants. He was out of cigarettes. Have you ever tried to break down a centuries-old iron door on an ancient gothic cathedral? And then it started to rain. He would die of the cold before he starved to death.

That was when Vernon remembered his cell phone.

1457. Poster in a church in France

(This is a translation of an actual poster in France)

After entering this church, you may hear “the call of God”. However, it is unlikely he will call you on his mobile. Thank you for turning off your phones.

If you wish to talk to God, by all means do so. Come in and choose a quiet place.

If you wish to see Him, send a text while driving.

1387. At the ready

It was a silly thing, but Talia always kept her cell phone charging on the ledge above the kitchen sink. This was just in case (and of course it would never happen) an alien space craft suddenly appeared over the horizon.

AND IT DID! IT DID!

Talia grabbed her phone to take a photo and, with slippery hands from doing the dishes, dropped the phone into the boiling hot soapy sink water.

The next thing the space craft landed on her lawn just outside the kitchen window. An alien stepped out. He handed Talia a brand new phone.

“This is to replace the phone you just dropped into the sink,” he said.

As she stood on the steps to wave goodbye to the departing space craft, Talia though, “What a nice alien. I should’ve offered him a saucer of milk or something.”