I won’t bother to offer what evidence I have to support this suspicion, but it’s very strong and I don’t much like it, especially since the object is almost certainly green and made of plastic. This won’t do, will it? If it were a piece of shrapnel coloured gun metal grey I’d be able to hold my head up high in any company. I could even fly to Australia, and when the customs man asked the question which determines whether or not you’re a fit person to be allowed entry – do you like Vegemite, mate? – I could answer: ‘I really couldn’t say, my fine fellow, but I do have shrapnel.’ And then he would be duly impressed and reply: ‘Oh right, mate. That’s the next best thing. In you come and pick up your barbie vouchers by the door.’
But green and plastic? How can I possibly walk freely among
my fellow creatures with a green plastic article loitering indecently off
limits? And what about when I’ve shuffled off my very own mortal coil and been
cremated? Some curious person might empty the ashes out onto an old newspaper or
something and exclaim in a tone of disgust and disbelief: ‘Yerk! What’s this
lump of green stuff, here?’ And then somebody from the assembled multitude in
the room would offer: ‘Looks like a bit of melted plastic to me.’ And the
rest would concur, and then I’d be too ashamed to haunt anybody ever again.
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