Nymphomation(105)

Real time: 8.59.53. ‘Hit it!’ shouted Jimmy.

Joe banged down the key that let the Theseus equation loose, along a path of dominoes, carried by info-blurb to real blurb that flew straight to the heart of the game and detonated…

The body of the beast twitched, a final spasm…

Maze time, real time, coinciding time.

Daisy had one domino left.

A final bone was born that day as nine o’clock struck, a winning bone that would never change again. Frank’s head floundered to the surface of the pit for a second. He screamed as he saw the domino being born, and was then engulfed again and carried along by the blurbflies to the out portal.

There’s only one domino. You just have to know how to play it.

Daisy played it. The double-six she asked for, the double-six she got.

‘Domino.’

As Jimmy’s face froze. As Lady Luck’s costume froze on the city’s screens. A six, a six. That’s the way the cookie crumbles. As Little Celia sprang up and down, shouting and screaming, showing her bone. ‘I got it! I got the double-six! I’m a winner! I’m the new Mister Million!’

As Joe worked the computer. ‘OK, we’re back on board. I’ve got blurbflies everywhere like crazy. I’ve got Jazir and Max still moving. I think we did it, folks.’ Then he went crazy too. ‘A fucking million! A million fucking lovelies!’

‘Like I said, Dad,’ whispered Daisy. ‘It’s domino time.’

Her father slumped down, face to the scattered playing area.

‘Do you want to tell me how I did that?’

PLAY THE RULES

13a. In the event of a double-six, AnnoDomino will allow the winning player to become the new Mr (or Mrs or Ms) Million.

13b. The winning player may reorganize the game, following his or her wishes, in accordance with the Government’s rulings.

13c. The new Manager of Chances shall remain anonymous, in accordance with ruling 4d.

13d. The winning player may not refuse this prize.

13e. The game is sacrosanct.





Play to win


Jazir was helping Max around the outer perimeter of the House of Chances. Lights were flashing madly along the ceiling and a siren could be heard shrieking from a hundred speakers. Employees and blurbflies alike were going crazy to escape the chaos of the big win. ‘Oh shit!’ said Jazir. ‘Celia will kill me. Stay right there, Max. I forgot something.’ He went back into the circle, and right up to the pit. Crawl and Tumbler and Cookie, and a few other desolate operatives, were standing around, some gazing into the pit, some not daring to.

‘What you after?’ said Crawl. ‘Haven’t you done enough?’

‘Not quite.’

Jazir jumped down. Miss Sayer and her pupil Malthorpe were lying in a knotted coil on their shared belly. All was still. Had he really done his work? Was this what the teacher wanted? Was she free now?

Let us hope so.

Jazir walked over to the dead beast, parted the central lips, and stuck his arm inside. He was up to the shoulder in grease before he found what he was after. A mighty tug dislodged the splattered remains of the Masala blurbfly. ‘Good innings, our kid,’ said Jazir, as he plucked the dripping feather from its lips. ‘It shouldn’t happen to a vert.’

At the main doorway, the large domino gate was swung open, jammed for ever on the double-six pattern, as the beams projected the result to the air. It was a result never expected. Access all areas, all hail the new Mister Million! Executive Crawl had followed them down, and was now standing on the grass forecourt, looking suitably dazed. At his feet lay the battered, lifeless form of Frank Scenario, dropped from a great height. But Crawl’s eyes, like all the eyes of Manchester, were firmly on the skies.

Jazir had to smile. ‘Who would have thought it,’ he said to the faithless executive, ‘the dominoes were eggs.’

And all over Manchester now, those eggs were splitting in two, lucky bones opening at last, to release their babies…





Play to dream


And out of every cracked-open domino rose a new blurbfly.

Across the skies, see them now, still winging it. A migration of adverts, taking the dream elsewhere, out of Manchester. The heavens were V-shaped for weeks after the game, and alive with the new message.

Dream to win! A time to use my own voice.

I managed to get Max back to the old house. Joe and Celia were dancing around in the living room, throwing the winning bone hand to hand. ‘Shall we go collect it now, Jaz?’ cried Celia. ‘Shall we? Shall we now!’

‘Not yet, little ‘un.’

‘When then? When?’

‘Yeah… when, Jazir?’ asked Joe.

I didn’t have the heart to tell them. How could I? They’ll find out.