Valley of the Trolley Dollies

My Blog mentor (hello blog daddy), Bob over at bobzyeruncle has been publishing a series of short pieces every Tuesday. The process has come to be know as Tuesday 200 (nothing can come in over 200 words).

Having never pretended to have an original idea in my head, I decided that I, too, would write short pieces of bloggable fiction regularly. Some of you will know I already write larger pieces, but these things (like Bob’s) can be about characters I’d never dream of writing a novel about; they can be funnier or darker or less plot driven or, frankly, duller than some of the things I’d spend time developing. Equally, they might actually open some doors, get me thinking about some ideas that have lain in the drawer for a while. Maybe even turn into full fledged real life stories in their own right. One difference: The word limit. I want nothing more than 400 words. I’m just not that good at editing (surprise!). So it’s more of a Friday 400.
Hey - I’ve always been a bit too wordy. So sue me!!

Anyways, without further ado, here’s the first piece

‘portfolio ‘

“You sure about this?” Nathaniel asked. He’d been in training since February for what he referred to as “The 20K race”, but he’d been overdoing it: I was sure the ‘K’ wasn’t meant to stand for Kilogrammes.

“Positive,” I replied. “The whole collection.”

“But the Walther-“

“The Walther, Nate. The Pearl handled duellers. The Derringers, too.”

“A life’s work,” he murmured, his shoulders slumping.

“Well, life moves on.” I wondered whether the life he was referring to was mine or his. “Best price, Nate, but fast. Sell ‘em as a collection, break ‘em up. Whatever.”

He sighed, looking like a consumptive deputy Dawg. “If it’s a short-term cashflow situation, well… A collateralised loan? Using the guns as security?”

I shook my head. “It’s not a short term situation.”

“If there’s some problem-”

“Cougar Automotives,” I said.

He frowned. “Cougar? Never heard of them.”

“Small operation out of St Louis. They made automobiles, back in the ‘20’s. Moved on to motor parts. Spent the past forty years making farm machinery – tractors, grain harvesters, trailers.”

“Is this why you sold out of-”

“Vickers? BAE? You’ve been talking to Stanley.” Nate had the decency to blush. “Sure. It’s linked. Little Cougar Automotives. No-one’s ever heard of them. They’re trading, right now, at one-o-six on the plain, and a half point premium on the preferentials. But, see, here’s the thing: In sixty-four-” I checked my watch, “Sixty-three and a half hours, the Iraqi minister for reconstruction and development will announce that, under the auspices of the current authorities in Baghdad, a new project to revitalise Iraq’s agricultural economy will commence immediately. As usual, there’s no point bidding for the contracts; they’ve already been assigned. And guess who’s gonna be announced as the principal supplier of Agricultural Machinery?

“Best guess, the stock should double in an hour. I’ve seen the contract – don’t ask how, I just have – and once word gets out on just how much the Iraqi’s are paying for something as basic as a combine harvester, there’ll be a feeding frenzy.

“They’ll hit three- twenty-five. I know I can push it to five-thirty, and I don’t think a six-ten is impossible. But first, I need to get in.”

“So you’re out of the BAE and the Vickers, you’re selling the collection, all so you can buy up-”

“That’s right, Nate,” I answered with a gentle smile, “I’m turning my weapons into plough shares.”

This entry was posted on Friday, October 20th, 2006 at 10:52 am and is filed under Fiction etc.. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.