I SEE NO SHIPS!
The day started with a cold shower and a five minute
turnout.
The previous evening had been a success for Able Seaman
Lancelot Shippey, and all objectives had been achieved. He had mastered the act of demolishing a
stack of pint glasses with his rotund backside and demonstrated the correct way
to bite a chunk out of a schooner glass without spilling the 100 per cent proof
cocktail of Vladimir vodka and pure unadulterated absinth.
This neat trick was followed by a visit to the Wan Chai District
where he spent his remaining dollars on a very unconvincing Susie Wong lookalike,
who he left in a supine state laying across the bed, after inflicting his flaccid
manhood about her boyish and lifeless body.
Shippey, or Ships as he was affectionately known by his co-workers at the Victoria and Portsmouth Insurance Company HO was in no
mood for compromise as he entered the office for his last day of what he
considered indentured work.
As he entered the lift, he tucked in his shirt tail and
glanced at his red puffy face in the brightly lit mirrors adorning the walls.
He sprang out of the shuddering capsule as the lift halted on the eighth floor.
He squeezed his body through the opening doors and after showing his pass at
the electric door mechanism advanced to his seat for the final time.
His desk was positioned close to the full length glass
windows that encompassed the exterior walls of the building. He slowly entered
his various pass words in to the PC seated in front of him and was soon browsing
the internet for details of the latest news bulletins from the cities numerous
digital agencies. He slowly raised his
corpulent hands to his head as he wiped rapidly descending beads of sweat from
his forehead and temples.
The rest of the seats arranged around the set of desks where
Ships sat were empty for one reason or another, and those seated behind were
engaged in banal chatter regarding the previous night’s incident involving the
murder of a call girl in one of the cities heaving island districts.
Ships overheard this chatter and instantly froze in terror
as his thoughts returned to the previous night and his encounter with the Suzie
Wong impersonator, who had what appeared to be two hairy golf balls and a
catheter tethered between her legs.
He went to rise from his seat but quickly refrained as he
became aware that he had pissed his pants and his already stale trousers were
now sodden with urine. Grabbing an old sweater from the back of an adjacent
chair, he wrapped the item of clothing about his waist and stumbled towards the
toilets.
After drying his loins and pubic region under the hand blower, and
scrubbing his trousers and undergarments partially dry with paper towels, Ships
returned to his desk where a crowd had gathered.
Taken aback by the commotion
around his work station, Ships bolted for the lifts and with sweat flowing from
every pore in his body, poked the elevator down button until blood spat from
his bruised and urine stained fingers.
The elevator doors opened and Inspector John Wang Kai of the
Hong Kong Bureau of Homicide stepped out grabbing Shippey by his wrists. Without
thinking, the disheveled and terrified Shippey blurted out “I did it, did it, please forgive
me for my sins, but i must have done it....”
Looking back through the assembled staff who had now
accumulated at the electronic doors, the Inspector removed his deerstalker hat
and exclaimed loudly, “I see no Ships” as he handcuffed the by now crying and
cringing Shippey to his assistant detective Hillary Wang.
As they descended the lift shaft they could all clearly hear
the staff of the office rhythmically chanting “We see no ships, we see no
ships…” etc. ending with a rousing cheer as he left the buildings granite and
glass atrium. Ships stumbled down the steps and stooped low to accommodate being pushed in to the awaiting police van and
eventual incarceration within the cities notorious prison system.
He lowered his head and glared at the highly polished boot
of the police officer, and after taking a deep breath opened his mouth and
exclaimed at the top of his voice….”I SEE NO SHIPS”………………………….
As the prisoner was delivered to the holding cells, the
Inspector turned to his assistant and remarked that that was a remarkable turn
of events as he had only called at the office to speak to his wife who worked
in the accounts section.
At that very moment, a tired but alive transsexual hooker
awoke in her flat in the Wan Chai District, remembering the strange but harmless client who had paid her his last few dollars
before she tripped over her furniture and knocked herself out. Deciding to
leave the premises to clear her head, she exited the building and picked up a morning
copy of the South China and Hong Kong Times and noticed its bold headlines:
“Hooker strangled in
Causeway Bay. No suspect known to police. Murderer still at large”.
