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The Emperor's New Clothes.

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The Emperor's New Clothes There lived a man; he should still be alive now, yet one would like to think that he had grown up a little. He fancied himself the 'It Boy' of Western Super- Mare, he was the guy in the latest fashion, up to date hairdo's and always had this months Vanity Fair tucked under one arm. The fact that he was almost 38 and still lived in his parents three bedroomed semi-detached did not seem to deter him. Being a man of simple pleasures, and having never had the intuition to actually move into a place of his own and get a career, his daily routine had not changed much over the past twenty years. No later than 8.30am every morning, his doting and somewhat downtrodden mother would creep into his bedroom, careful not to wake the mountain of a son who lay snoring like a pig in his bed. She would place his plate of sausage sandwiches next to his bedside and then quietly leave closing the door gently behind her. At precisely 8.40am, he would take one last grotesque snore and then emerge from his top bunk, and haul his not so svelte figure down the two foot ladder that leant against the side, which screamed in distress every step he made in his descent. With one foul swoop his great hairy hand would shovel sausage sandwiches into his gawping mouth, two at a time. ...read more.


After blowing air kisses to his mother and father, he would head off to the seafront. When on the bus, he would lay out a designer tissue on which to perch his bottom on, and cross his legs curtly. One may imagine that seeing a middle aged bald man with the ghastliest fake tan and atrocious dress sense and perspiration problem, would be a humorous thing, but the locals were completely used to him, and paid him no attention whatsoever. In the city he would flounce around seemingly aimless, peering in at the most expensive shops and throwing lesser beings nasty looks. Then, he would go to his favourite caf�, a low key seaside affair, that his Great Aunt happened to own. Here, he could get free coffee and cream cakes. This was a privilege he had been abusing ungratefully for as long as his great aunt could remember. He was definately not one to say no to something free (as his unlucky relative had realised). This was his critical downfall. It was a day like any other in the caf�, when he was approached by a young woman complete with fake breasts, a fake smile, and an incredible amount of orange makeup on, a saleswoman. He glanced her up and down, his eyes did not stumble upon an expensive lable, therefore he returned to his article without bothering to utter a word. ...read more.


After three weeks of applying the cream, he was not a happy customer. He had even stopped going out to the seafront for his regular coffee and cream cakes. For not only had his bald spot stayed bald, but to his horror it had increased in size. He rang the helpline. Sitting there in his mother's favourite chair, on hold, for most of an hour. Until the same lady who he had spoken to before answered. A whole string of violent abuse later, the woman replied, 'The treatment has to get rid of the original hair, in order to work on the head as a whole, and produce shiny healthy looking locks. Because you sir, are worth it' She purred. Nothing like a cheap compliment to dampen his rage. So, religiously, he carried on applying it. Until the final day came, when he awoke one morning completely, outrageously bald, not to mention shiny. Alongside his sausage sandwich was a small letter. He opened it happily, 'Popular as ever' he thought. Inside the letter, was a note written by hand. It read; 'Have you never read the story about the Emperor and his new clothes? Oh, he and his bald head of Western Super-Mare... Vanity is a highly un-attractive quality. Consider the lesson taught' On the back of the note, were the signatures of every person in his neighbourhood. Hands shaking, he laid down the note gently. Promptly strolled downstairs, leaving his sausage sandwiches behind, picked up the yellow pages and looked up, designer toupees. ...read more.

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