He Hated It - He Hated It More Then Words Could Say

Charlie Barley and Patrick the Penguin' the posters said. 'Charlie Barley and Patrick the Penguin' was who they paid their money to come and see. 'Charlie bloody Barley and Patrick the bloody Penguin' ten long years on the road.

What had started off a childhood obsession had taken over his life. "I want to be a ventriloquist," he remembered saying to his parents so loudly, "and I will hold my breath until you buy me a dummy." And so they did.

Now, after fifteen years, he had grown to hate the dummy that had taken over his life. The dummy that got all the laughs. The dummy that was loved by the audiences. Yes, he had reluctantly got used to the idea that it was his wooden dummy they came to see. He might as well not show up for the all the attention he got. If he said exactly the same lines there was no reaction but in his dummy's voice you couldn't stop the gales of laughter.

Well it was going to change. After tonights show he had finally reached then end of his tether. He was not going to let that dummy make a fool of him again. Slowly he folded the figure into its travel case and dragged him outside. 

Once the crowds had departed he slowly poured white spirit over the box. Funny how not one of the audience had come over to say how much they had enjoyed the show. He knew why, without the dummy he was invisible. Well, when the match caught he would send his hilarious friend skywards in a puff of smoke.

Later, turning his back on the smouldering embers of his show biz partner, he seemed to have aged as he shuffled off. He had thought it would be a relief to be rid of him.

Entering his home he was greeted from the Kitchen. "It's fish for tea Patrick, I hope you don't mind." 

Instinctively he heard Charlie's voice come from his beak, "not fish a-bloody-gain." He could hear his penguin mate laughing in the kitchen.