Cynical Tales for Cynical Children

by Timothy Ahern

  “They're not trying to take over then” Carl stared at the door after the Elves had finished and vanished into the night as mysteriously as they had arrived “we should do something for them. If word gets around that we've got people working for us under such terrible conditions what will the community think?”

  “At the very least they need a good feed. I've seen more meat on a butchers pencil”

  “Lets get to bed while we still can my love. We're going to be doing a great deal of shopping in the morning”

  It was on the stroke of midnight when everything happened just as it had done the previous night and the pair of Elves were blown through the door with the winter winds. The big difference was in exactly what was waiting for them because, in addition to the shoes which were waiting for be constructed, a hot pot of a heartily nourishing winter soup with fresh slabs of hot bread sitting next to a pair of heavy winter coats and a gratitude card which had been inscribed with a warm message of thanks in a flowing golden script.

  4

  He had no problem selling the shoes. Someone has to make a profit from the wages of sin after all.

  5

  A turn of phrase which quickly lost any romantic appeal when one live next to the clockmakers quarter.

  The Elves hugged each other in wonderment at their recipients of such generous charity and after they had taken the opportunity to fill themselves up on soup they clothed themselves in their fine jackets while admiring their new clothing.

  From their hiding place underneath the stairs the Snugglybottoms smiled and nodded to each other at the pleased response to their good deeds.

  “This is going to be great” Mr Snugglybottom observed “think about how much they’ll be able to do now”

  “All right brother” one of the Elves picked up a heavy piece of leather “I suppose it’s time to get to work”

  “Work? What for?” the other examined some heavy thread with considerably less interest than he’d shown the night before “correct me if I’m wrong brother but if we’re wearing clothing like this it’s a sign that we’ve become rich and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt from watching humans it’s that if you’re rich you don’t sully your hands with actual work”

  “Wait, what? We can do that?”

  “Wait, what? They can do that?” Bonnie Snugglybottom asked in astonishment

  “Wait, what? They can’t do that!” Carl Snugglybottom exclaimed in panic and raced outside after the Elves although exactly what they thought they could do remains a mystery to this day because neither of the Elves responded to the calls of the Snugglybottoms and the last either of the Snugglybottoms ever saw of their mysterious nightime visitors were the fleeting shadows of the pair as they danced off into the darkness of night.

  EXCOGITATION

  •

  What are the Elves getting out of all this?

  Traditionally speaking Elves are generally flighty creatures and I’m not just saying this because of the wings. It’s entirely possible that this strange nocturnal work experience would have only lasted until the pair got bored and moved on to the Snugglybottoms next door neighbor in order to learn how to fix clocks until that too proved to be not as much fun as was first thought.

  •

  Where did the Elves go?

  Clothes maketh the man or so the saying goes6 and from their actions it would seem they maketh the Elf as well. Given the fact their previous clothing had been worn down to rags and the pair left as soon as they had received new clothing it is logical to assume sartorial finery is held in high regard in Elvish society and until such time as these clothes wear away these two Elves will be highly regarded whereupon the entire cycle would begin once again.

  •

  How much did the big dinner cost?

  Ultimately it cost the Snugglybottoms their newest employees which is, as has already been pointed out, the entire point.

  It's just that what, I wonder was the actual monetary cost of all the ingredients for the soup, the engraving the fancy thank you card and a rush job on two pairs of heavy winter clothing?

  Even the price of the bed would have added onto a growing total and though I'm not one to make assumptions without the hard data to back it all up it is entirely possible to assume the Snugglybottoms spent all the money which had been earned by the selling of the Elves work which means, at the end of all this that they've returned to the same state where they were right at the start of this story.7.

  6

  Personally I doubt this as I’ve never met anyone cut from the same cloth as myself.

  7

  If you'd like to go back to the start and read this through again I completely understand and will not write another word until you are ready to go on.

  RATIOCINATION

  An often overlooked factor during this entire adventure is the possibility that all of this late night cobbling might easily have been the beginnings of a massive joke and, in their innocent act of thanking the Elves for their efforts the Snugglybottoms inadvertently stumbled across the exact thing which canceled the joke. If the pair hadn’t received new clothing then it is possibly that they would have continued working each night with the quality of the shoes rising exponentially.

  It is therefore not inconceivable to assume that the cobblers star would have been on the rise and just when he’s taken an amazingly important order from the lord high master of clockworks and automation who, as you have no doubt already guessed, is so amazingly important that with a single word he is able to bring about the success or ruin of any business inside the city the Elves stop their work completely which forces the Snugglybottoms to scramble frantically in order to complete their list of increasingly important contracts while pretending nothing is wrong.

  The punchline concludes with Snugglybottom Shoemaking Services closed down after a great deal of egg has landed on their faces, a great deal of ire pointed at both of the Snugglybottoms from the most influential people in the city and the entire Elf population openly laughing at their efforts to make things right.

  This is, it must be said, neither the nicest nor the funniest joke in the world but when you've been given names such as Blossomy and are somehow lumped in with the likes of Tinkerbell rather than Legolas despite your best efforts then you've got to be prepared to to what little revenges when they are available.

  When all is said and done the message of this story would appear to be

  “Work hard and you'll reap the benefits”8

  After all Carl the shoemaker had worked hard all his life and for his effort was rewarded with a vacation.9 This brings to mind the other moral that generally gets trotted out at this point.

  “Working together brings better results for everyone”

  Although, logically speaking this is only true if we happen to live in a communist utopia.10 I’m afraid there really is only one lesson we can take away from this piece of pro-elf propaganda.

  “Whatever you do don't ever reward your workers or even acknowledge them if at

  all possible” 11

  8

  With a nod in the direction of the fact that elderly humans are prone to losing all their skills and going completely senile once they reach a certain age. You know, just to twist the knife and remind us Elves are perfect when they are young and even moreso when they’re old.

  9

  Except not really because he didn’t stop working or go anywhere. It’s more correct to say his reward from a lifetime of making shoes was a few days where he didn’t have to work as hard.

  10 To say nothing of the fact that the Elves their reactions to the new jackets are a perfect example of the evils of capitalism

  11 Also if you’re not the boss then you shouldn’t be reading this story. Get back to work you filthy laborer! I don’t pay you to sit around improving your lot in life!

  THE EMPERORS NEW CLOTHES

  In which it is shown those in power are neither wrong nor fools. Even when they

  are.
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br />   Fashion. It's a fickle thing at best and a cruel mistress at worst. Everyone knows what's 'in' today will be 'out' tomorrow and will remain 'out' until it becomes 'retro' at which point it is once again 'in' and those who devote their lives to knowing exactly what style is 'in' or 'out' run the risk of becoming the shallowest of people.

  This danger explains why it's a good thing there are some people in the world who, as amazing as it seems, remain defiantly unfashionable. These people sacrifice time which might be spent discussing fashion trends in favour of a working knowledge of black holes, jet fighters or complex mathematical theories and frankly the less said about such deviants the better since the focus of this particular story is the fashionable people and the unfortunate consequences of allowing your impulses free rein over your life.

  any years ago there was an emperor, this in itself wasn't surprising because many years ago there were considerably more emperors about the place. This particular emperor was named Fred and he was fond of clothing, actually this would be putting Mit mildly since all of his money was spent on fashionable attire to the point where he didn't bother with going to the opera, maintaining his armies or even going hunting unless there was an opportunity to swan about in a new set of fine clothing.

  Understandably his sartorial endeavours caused a great deal of comment throughout the city, across the empire and eventually reached the cunning ears of a pair of scoundrels who theatrically twirled their moustaches and departed forthwith for the imperial court in order to imperil the imperial person and possibly purloin the imperial purse.

  On the day they arrived Emperor Fred was in particularly fine form with everyone admiring the imperial form loudly and the taller of the two men smirked at exactly the wrong time which drew the imperial attention1.

  “Who sir, are you sir, to laugh at an emperor?”

  “A cat may smile at a king” the rogue smiled “surely an expert sartorial such as myself might smile at an Emperor”

  “Especially one who wears such rags” his partner added “we were under the impression that the imperial person was the shining center of this court. Clearly we've been misled”

  “Make sense you two. What are you talking about?”

  “Forgive us Emperor Charlie, we carry with us fabrics of such wonder and quality it will cause you to throw your entire wardrobe into the street for the beggars to fight over and even they won't want the remains of your wardrobe”

  “It's Fred actually”

  “Really? Perhaps Charlie will be coming along later”

  “I don't think so, there are no Charlies in my family”

  “That remains to be seen. But at last to business! For a small sum of small monies we two shall weave a cloth of the most beautiful colours and delicately elaborate patterns”

  “I've heard this claim before sirs” Emperor Fred remained unimpressed “exactly what is it which makes yours different from theirs?”

  1

  If the story ended at this point then the moral would be “Never laugh at an Emperor” It doesn't, so it isn't.

  “Others might lay claim to pretty colours or nice patterns but pshaw to them I say Pshaw!”

  “Pshaw!” the smaller of the two echoed

  “Indeed. Pshaw. The cloth we can weave is so fine it remains totally invisible to those who are simple or unfit for their station”

  “Totally invisible you say?” the emperor mused to himself “what better way to find out which of my men are unfit for their positions and at last I'll be able to fill my court with wise men who know the difference between a belt, a baldric and a cravat”

  The two weavers made a great deal of noise in the setting up their looms, spinning wheels and other implements of destruction and then proceeded to work, or rather ‘work’, late into the night. Order after order for silks, gold thread, pearls, brocade and anything else they could think of were issued until it was arriving by wagonload yet rather than going on to create anything all the material went in a huge bag so it might be taken to an undisclosed site and exchanged for an equally undisclosed amount of money by an undisclosed fence who neither asked or answered difficult questions. Eventually the emperor started wondering how it was all getting on and sent round his wisest minister to inspect the cloth and report back.

  The pair of rogues welcomed the minister with open arms and loudly praised their work to date which was all wasted on the minister who could neither see nor feel anything.

  “I know I'm not an idiot. I got top marks in belt, baldric and cravat identification” he thought “and I'll be blowed if anyone thinks they can use this to say I'm unfit for my office. Clearly there is but one course of action” so the minister returned to the emperor and praised the workmanship and superior quality of the cloth which had already being completed.

  More time passed by and the only proper description for the vast quantities of material which had been requisitioned by the pair was mountainous, furthermore everybody who was sent to check on their progress found themselves making the same decision as the original ministers and, out of a fear they'd be labelled as idiots or unfit for their position, they raved about how glorious it all was while ignoring the pangs of guilt.

  The conmen couldn't hold out forever though and eventually the news of the amazocloth had spread throughout the entire city and the same entire city was agog to see what all their tax dollars were being spent on this time. The Emperor in particular could no longer stand the anticipation and personally opened the door to the workroom in order to admire the finery

  “Your imperial excellency!” the shorter of the pair bowed low on the basis that he could do reach the ground faster and waited until the imperial excellency had made himself comfortable “how wonderful to grace us with your presence at last”

  “I would have been here sooner but matters of state must take precedence over the dictates of simple fashion” Emperor Fred lied badly and, like all bad liars, was visibly relieved to see how good he was at it “is this the, uh, the cloth then?”

  “It certainly is my emperor” the tailor assured him “is it not as wonderful as your wise ministers have reported?”

  Emperor Fred blinked at the empty looms “I know the difference between a belt, a baldric and a cravat” he thought “therefore I'm not stupid. Neither am I unfit to be emperor” Thus, rather than admit he couldn't see anything and have the pair thrown into the deepest dungeon he made the same decision as everyone else and officially declared a grand procession would take place2 in order to allow everyone to behold the amazocloth and, more importantly, their imperial leader in all his glory.

  2

  Presumably this procession avoided the local asylum. I mean it probably would have anyway it's just that when you're decked out in clothing so fine it's invisible to fools there's no point in taking chances of people getting a glimpse of the imperial persons imperial privates.

  The pair of tailors dressed the emperor personally and everyone from the ministers down to the servants took pains to assure him he wore the greatest and most stylish piece of cloth since Caveman Og had first draped a mammoth skin around his shoulders.

  As he strode through the city with an air of pride the assembled crowd cheered and called their admiration of the cloth even though none of them could see a thing. The emperor waved back at the crowd and swelled with pride despite the fact he couldn't see anything of this magic cloth. It didn't matter, nothing he'd ever paraded about in had drawn this much attention or caused this much comment.

  You know what? It almost worked. The imperial procession had circled the city and were just starting up the main road leading back to the palace with the crowds cheering and nobody pointing out the blindingly obvious, nobody except for a small child who was perched on her fathers shoulders and been given the day off school in order to gaze upon the imperial profile.

  "Is that the Emperor dad?" she asked in the piercingly shrill voice which belongs to all small children

  "why is he naked?"

&nb
sp; Her father smiled at the innocence of his daughters remarks, however the damage had already been done and the procession was forced to continue the stately pace in the face of a city who were trying not to laugh. The imperial attendants increased their efforts to hold the imperial train in the face of badly hidden smiles which only added to the sudden ridiculousness of it all.

  EXCOGITATION

  •

  Did the emperor have any real power?

  He's spending all his time dealing with all things haberdashery related then it's clear the actual running of the actual country is in somewhat more capable hands. Since there doesn't seem to have been anything resembling a revolution. Even if he is just a figurehead, the people don't mind about Emperor Fred being allowed to swan about in fine clothes and shake the hands of commoners who, no doubt, have been carefully selected beforehand.

  •

  What if he had been smart enough to see he was being conned?

  Perhaps it would have been the event which saw him finally take the position of Emperor seriously but more likely it would have led to a demonstration of imperial displeasure.

  At the very least it would have changed the story on something of a fundamental level so perhaps the events should be left as is in order to demonstrate that even Emperors can’t be right all the time3.

  •

  What if the amazocloth had worked?

  The amazocloth was completely invisible to those who were simple or unfit for their station.

  While the Emperor is on his grand tour of the city to a certain percentage of the populace it will still look as though he’s walking around completely naked.

  On the other hand he is the Emperor and it’s his city. So if he says he’s wearing clothing then he’s wearing clothing.

  •

  So just what is the difference between a belt, a baldric, and a cravat?