Chapter Six - In The End There Is Just Confusion

The Monkey wearing the waistcoat led Mr Quadwich through a long narrow corridor. The walls were a pristine white one would expect to find in a hospital in heaven. There was not a stain to be found. No mysterious brown mark, no bizarre polka dot pattern of dirt, no flecks of paint pealing themselves from the wall in a desperate bid for freedom, no nothing. Mr Quadwich was shocked. He had never seen such clean walls. He was afraid to even go near them for fear of getting a speck of dirt on them and being violently accosted for doing so. The monkey had no such fear. He strode down the corridor with purpose and confidence. It was an odd sight Mr Quadwich reflected and certainly not one he had expected to seen this morning when he got out of bed. He had not expected anything he had seen today. That was not about to change. The monkey led Mr Quadwich into a room so large that he did not know that such a room could exist, and definitely that such a room existed in the centre of London.

Mr Quadwich: “Wow.”

Monkey: “Indeed.”

            Mr Quadwich saw row upon row of computers with a person typing furiously on its keyboard. The noise that was produced resembled almost, but not entirely, nothing like the birds who sang outside of his window. As he walked past no one looked up. No one paid him any attention whatsoever. He was of no interest to them. It was as if nothing could distract them from their furious typing. If the SAS stormed in through the roof in a shower of bullets and explosions he doubted as if they would even pause to remove the debris from the keyboard. 

Monkey: “This way.”

            The monkey indicated a path through the computers, which led to a glass staircase. The stairs led upwards, as they so often do, to a level of offices. Mr Quadwich could tell they were offices because the word office was written on every door. A number followed the word office. The room he was led into read, ‘Office 4891’. The office was slightly larger than he had expected. In fact, it was slightly larger than a football pitch. Mr Quadwich was again surprised. He stopped walking in shock. He surveyed what he saw and did not quite believe it. The walls of the office were as white as the corridor and just as clean. The carpet was a dull red. There was a bright light at the far end of the office just within his eyesight. He assumed it was some sort of large window. There was nothing else. The office was bare. There was no furniture, there was no plants, there was no books or bookcase, there was no hurried sectaries rushing about, there was nothing that one would associate with an office. Now Mr Quadwich had never before been in an office but this was not what he had been led to expect. He had a strange urge to blame the media. The monkey had continued walking as Mr Quadwich stood in shock but at this moment he turned round to find his companion was not there. He was so far into the office that he was required to shout when he called back to Mr Quadwich.

Monkey: “Come on!”

Mr Quadwich: “Is this normal?”

Monkey: “What!”

Mr Quadwich: “Is this normal!”

Monkey: “Normal? What do you mean?”

Mr Quadwich: “The office! Is it normal for offices to be this large?”

Monkey: “No!”

Mr Quadwich: “So I’m not crazy?”

Monkey: “I wish you would stop asking me that! Now, come on!”

            Mr Quadwich took another look around, shook his head then hurried to join the monkey. They continued walking, and continued walking, and continued walking, until finally the bright light filled most of the office. Slowly, as they continued walking, a small black object could be made out against the bright light. He was just a speck but due to the brightness of the light it was clearly visible.

Mr Quadwich: “What’s that?”

Monkey: “That is who we are going to see.”

            They continued to walk, and walk, and walk. Mr Quadwich had not walked this much since he had been confused into joining a group of ramblers. The speck had grown to a dot then into mark and finally into a desk with what appeared to be a bank clerk behind it. The Monkey approached the bank clerk.

Monkey: “I have brought him.”

Bank Clerk: “Excellent.”

            The monkey motioned Mr Quadwich to step forward to the edge of the desk and he did so. He extended his right hand almost instantly.

Mr Quadwich: “Hello.”

            The bank clerk looked at him with an intense glare that matched the bright light that was behind him.

Bank Clerk: “Hello, Mr Quadwich. I’ve been expecting you.”

Mr Quadwich: “And I you.”

            The bank clerk looked shocked. Mr Quadwich turned to see the reaction of the monkey but discovered he was gone.

Bank Clerk: “Really?”

Mr Quadwich: No, not really. It’s just everyone else gets to act all expectant and I…”

            The bank clerk cut him off.

Bank Clerk: “Do you know the full gravity of the situation we are facing?”

Mr Quadwich: “End of the world?”

Bank Clerk: “Not just that. This could mean the end of this country.”

            The bank clerk stopped and looked at Mr Quadwich again. It made him feel extremely uncomfortable but he did not now why.

Bank Clerk: “Is the light disturbing you?”

Mr Quadwich: “Blindly me would be a better description.”

            The bank clerk pressed a button and the blindly light was reduced to a mildly annoying light. The kind of light generated by a street lamp.

Bank Clerk: “Better?”

Mr Quadwich: “Yes.”

            Again the look returned to the eyes of the Bank Clerk and again the uncomfortable feeling returned to Mr Quadwich.

Bank Clerk: “Do you know why you are here?”

Mr Quadwich: “No, but I am very confused.”

Bank Clerk: “Excellent.”

Mr Quadwich: “Excellent? What is excellent about that?”

Bank Clerk: “I could explain but it would increase your confusion.”

            Mr Quadwich looked confused.

Mr Quadwich: “All right, fine, don’t explain.”

Bank Clerk: “All you need to know is that this country faces a great danger and you are the only one who can save us.”

Mr Quadwich: “Right, got it. I’m the messiah.”

Bank Clerk: “Not the messiah, Mr Quadwich. Just the right man, in the right place.”

Mr Quadwich: “Sort of like a Saint then?”

Bank Clerk: “No.”

Mr Quadwich: “Prophet?”

Bank Clerk: “No.”

Mr Quadwich: “Cult leader?”

Bank Clerk: “Definitely not.”

Mr Quadwich: “One of those evangelical preachers on cable television who ask for donations?”

Bank Clerk: “Mr Quadwich you are being silly.”

Mr Quadwich: “I think I have the right too. All I want to know is how I fit into all this. A cultural reference to put my role in a context I would understand. I’m trying to remain sane here.”

Bank Clerk: “All right. Think of yourself as James Bond without the beautiful women, the martini, fast cars and without a license to kill.”

Mr Quadwich: “O…Kay. Thanks.”

Bank Clerk: “Now onto business. You have been brought here as you have a very important role to play. With me so far?”

Mr Quadwich: “Yes.”

Bank Clerk: “You will do something that will save this country. Understand?”

Mr Quadwich: “Yes.”

Bank Clerk: “Any questions?”

Mr Quadwich: “What am I supposed to do?”

Bank Clerk: “We don’t know.”

Mr Quadwich: “What?”

Bank Clerk: “We’re working on it.”

Mr Quadwich: “You’re working on it?”

Bank Clerk: “Yes.”

Mr Quadwich: “You dragged my ass out of bed at really early in the morning, confused me with monkeys, loads of computers and large offices, told me I’m going to save the world and you don’t even know what I’m supposed to do?”

Bank Clerk: “That’s about the size of it.”

Mr Quadwich: “Why am I not surprised?”

Bank Clerk: “Would you expect any different from the British government?”

Mr Quadwich: “I would expect smaller offices. How the hell is this possible?”

Bank Clerk: “Remember Dr Who?”

Mr Quadwich: “Of course. Wait a minute…No, that’s not possible.”

Bank Clerk: “Where did you think they got the idea for the TARDIS?”

Mr Quadwich: “But…but…how?”

Bank Clerk: “There is a long and complicated answer that involves a lot of equations and hairy mathematicians but basically it all comes down to cheese.”

Mr Quadwich: “Cheese?”

Bank Clerk: “Yes.”

Mr Quadwich: “That is about the stupidest thing that I have ever heard in my entire life.”

Bank Clerk: “You should have heard the one about shrimp.”