Young Adult (18-35)
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
What is it you want me to take pictures of? Please? News said William. What is news? Please? News is, William began. News is what we put in the newspaper. What do you think of this? A set a cheerful voice. William turned, there was a horribly familiar face looking at him over the top of a cardboard box. Hello, Mr Winkler, he said uh sorry Karissa, I wonder if you could go. And he wasn't quick enough. Mr Winkler. A man of the variety that thinks a whoopee cushion is the last word in a repartee was not the kind to let a mere freezing reception stand in his way. I was digging my garden this morning and up came this parsnip and I thought that young man at the paper will laugh himself silly when he sees it because my lady wife couldn't keep a straight face and to Williams horror, he was already reaching into the box. Mr Winkler, I really don't think. But the hand was already rising and there was the sound of something scraping on the side of the box. I bet the young lady here would like a good chuckle to a William. Shut his eyes. He heard sacrifice a gasp. Then she said, golly! It's amazingly lifelike. William opened his eyes. Oh, it's a nose! He said, a parsnip with a sort of normally face and a huge nose. You want I should take a picture, said Otto! Yes, said William drunk with relief. Take a picture of Mr Winter and his wonderfully nasal parsnip. Otto your first job. Yes, indeed. Mr Winkler beamed. And shall I run back home and fetch my carrot! He said. No, said William, and good Mountain in whiplash unison. You want a picture right now? Said Otto. We certainly do, said William. The sooner we can let him go home, the sooner our Mr Winkler can find another wonderful vegetable. Mr Winkler. What will it be next time? A bean with ears? A beetroot shaped like a potato sprout with an enormous hairy tongue right here and now. Is when you want a picture? Said Otto, anxiety, hanging off every syllable right now. Yes, as a matter of fact, there is a rutabaga coming along that I've got great hopes for. Mr Winter began Oval. If you will exist. Very mr Winkler, said Otto. He got behind the iconography and uncovered the lens. William got a glimpse of the imp peering out brush poised in his spare hand. Otto slowly held up on a stick a cage containing a fat and browsing salamander, and positioned his finger on the trigger that would bring a small hammer down on its head just hard enough to annoy it. Be smiling please, Alden said Sorry, Karissa, Should a vampire really click! The salamander flared etching the room with searing white light and dark shadows. Otto screamed. He fell to the floor, clutching at his throat. He sprang to his feet, goggle eyed and gasping and staggered, knock kneed and wobbly legged the length of the room, and back again. He sank down behind a table, scattering paperwork with a wildly flailing hand. And then there was a shocked silence. Otto stood, adjusted his Gravatt and dusted himself off. Only then did he look up at the row of shocked faces? Well? He said sternly, What you are looking at? It is just a normal reaction. That is all. I'm working on it. Light in all its forms is my passion. Light is my canvas. Shadows on my brush. But strong lie hurts you said sorry, Karissa. It hurts vampires. Yes, it is a bit of a bugger, but there you go. And that happens every time you take a picture. Does it? Said William. No! Sometimes it is a lot worse, worse. I sometimes crumpled to dust, but that which does not kill us, makes us strong. Strong, indeed! William caught sacrifices, gaze, her look, said it all. We've hired him. Have we got the heart to fire him now, and don't make fun of his accent unless her Uber Walden is really good. Okay, Otto adjusted the iconography and inserted a fresh sheet. And now shall we try one more, he said, brightly. And this time everybody smile