Wrinkly Joe was visiting recently, and as we hunched in the kitchen sharing half a tin of dog food and contemplating the approaching collapse of the economy, he uttered a low grunting sound.
You know, he said, I was thinking.
You were? There’s a change.
Ignoring me, he went on. I was thinking that organisations with three letters in their name are usually very efficient.
How do you mean? I said.
Well, like that crowd that are going to take over the country. The EMF.
Electro-motive force is going to take over the country?
No. I meant the IMF. The International Mother-Fuckers.
Right, I said. And?
And, he replied, I was thinking there are some great bands with three letters in their name.
I’m not having the ELO running the country. I’ll lead an uprising first.
Not them, he said. I was thinking maybe REM might be all right as a government.
Well, he said, they’d sack all the civil servants.
But then there would be thousands more on the dole.
No, he said. There wouldn’t.
No, he said. Remember, this is REM you’re talking about. They’d pay them a stipend.
I looked at him calmly for a moment or two.
And then I shot him.