Michael Allen - A Writer's Guide To Everything Important - The Omnibus Edition Of Seven Essential Guides For Fiction Writers

I opened the door and had a look out.

Just as I’d hoped, I was in a nice warm place. It was a bit like Benidorm really. I could smell the sea, there was a nice breeze blowing from the west, and there were a few palm trees to provide some shade. About half a mile away I could see what looked like a big white house with a dome for a roof. I couldn’t see any beautiful girls as yet, but I was sure there would be some somewhere.

So, I set off to walk towards the big house.

I hadn’t gone very far when I turned a corner and saw a bloke sitting on a wall. He had his head in his hands, as if he was really depressed, but as I got closer he looked up. And guess what – it was that Albert Coggins from Inkerman Street.

‘Morning, Albert,’ I said. ‘How’s things?’

Albert groaned. ‘Oh God. Don’t ask, lad, don’t ask.’

And then he did a bit of a double take.

‘Hang on a minute,’ he said. ‘It’s Bernard, isn’t it? Bernard from the Rose and Crown? Captain of the darts team?’

‘Yes, that’s me,’ I said.

‘Bloody hell, Bernard.’ Albert was astonished. ‘How did you get here?’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I came in my Sony Supertravel mark IV time/space bodily transportation machine. I’m beta-testing it for ’em – me and about three thousand others. How about you? How did you get here?’

Albert groaned again. ‘Oh, more or less the same way as you, I suppose. Only not quite so scientific. You see, I was cleaning out my granny’s loft for her – as you do. And I came across this old lamp, lying at the back like, as if nobody wanted it. So I picked it up, rubbed the dirt off it, and – guess what?’

‘A genie appeared.’

Albert looked even more astonished. ‘Yes. But how did you know?’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘since I’ve been beta-testing this Sony machine, I’ve come across places where genies are as common as muck. Some of these parallel universes are absolutely thick with them.’

‘Oh,’ said Albert. ‘Well, anyway, after I’d got over the shock of having this particular genie come pouring out of my granny’s lamp, he expressed his eternal gratitude to me for releasing him from bondage, and then he offered me three wishes. Said I could have anything I wanted. Go anywhere I wanted. Be anything I wanted. I only had to say.’

‘My word,’ I said. ‘The genies I’ve met haven’t been anywhere near as obliging as that, Albert. Grumpy lot most of them.’

‘Yes, well,’ said Albert, ‘I gather they only do the three wishes bit if they’ve been stuck in a lamp for a few thousand years. Anyway, that’s what this one said to me. So I thought for a bit, and then I said, Well, I’d like to be king of my own country for a start.’

‘OK,’ said the genie, ‘that’s one.’

‘And then, I’ve always been fond of nice-looking girls, so I want a harem of five hundred of the best.’

‘Two,’ said the genie.

‘And finally, I’d like a really good golf course next door to the palace, cos I’ve always fancied learning golf.’

‘That’s three, said the genie. Your wish is my command, o master. And with that there was a whirring noise, and everything went blank for a second or two – and then I ended up here.’

‘Well,’ I said, taking another look around. ‘I think you could have done a lot worse. It seems like a very nice place.’

Albert sighed. ‘Yes, well,’ he said. ‘It is and it isn’t. I’ve been here four years now, and the novelty has well and truly worn off on me, I can tell you....’ He suddenly looked alarmed. ‘What time is it?’

‘Ten o’clock.’

‘Oh, bloody hell. I’m late for the union meeting.’ He stood up. ‘You can come along with me if you like, Bernard. To tell you the truth I’d be glad of some moral support. Even though I am king.’

King Albert led the way to the fabulously white building nearby, which turned out to be the King’s palace.

When we got closer, I could see that it stretched for miles in every direction. All the walls were white, and there were no direction signs or labels on any of the doors. Albert reckoned he regularly got lost. Sometimes he had to walk miles to find a loo.

We eventually arrived at the council chamber, which was about the size of a football pitch, all on its own.

Seated at a table in the council chamber were two people. One turned out to be the Grand Vizier. He was a really ancient-looking bloke, slightly built, with a long white beard and a flowing red robe with lots of gold trimming on it.

The other person....

Well, the other person was Esmerelda.

Bloody hell. I mean, bloody hell!

Esmerelda was one of the five hundred girls from the harem. She was about average height, with blonde hair, blue eyes, long eyelashes, a creamy complexion, dark-red lips, all wet and inviting – and more curves than your average fairground roller coaster. In particular the, er, the upper part of her curves were approximately 38DD, and they were covered – or rather adorned – by two little bits of gold plate held up by gold chain. I mean, talk about firm. And pert. And all those other rather naughty words that are used to describe ladies with impressive chests. These particular chests were, believe me, unusually large and very well shaped. They were a pair of most distinguished bosoms. They would have won prizes at the county show. No problem.

I was a bit surprised, however, to find that Esmerelda was not too respectful towards her King.

‘You’re late!’ she told him when we appeared. And she wouldn’t even have bothered to stand up, I don’t think, if she hadn’t noticed that I was with him, and decided to give me a full-length view.

The bottom half of her body... Ooh, and what a bottom it was – never seen one like it – the bottom half of her body was loosely covered by a triangular piece of gold cloth, strategically positioned, and a few flimsy pieces of gauzy material. These gauzy leg-coverings might, in a very posh lingerie shop, have been sold as the lower section of a pair of honeymoon jim-jams. They looked a bit fragile to me, as if they wouldn’t take kindly to being pulled off in a hurry.

By heck, it makes me sweat just to think about her, even now.

Anyway, to get back to the business in hand. King Albert introduced me as his adviser, and said that I was going to sit in on the discussions.

The Grand Vizier umm-ed and ah-ed a bit, and wrung his hands, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether this was proper, but he soon gave way. And Esmerelda clearly didn’t give a bugger who was there.

‘Let’s get on!’ she snarled.

So we did.

‘I wish to make an opening statement,’ said Esmerelda. In tones which suggested that it would be unwise to try to stop her. ‘I am here, as you know, King Albert, in my capacity as harem shop-steward of the Union of Palace Internal Slaves and Skivvies.’

‘Known as UPISS for short,’ King Albert whispered to me. ‘And they do take the piss, believe me. They draw blood, too.’

Esmerelda stared daggers at him.

‘Once again,’ she declared, ‘his majesty the King has fallen short in his husbandly duties. There are, if I may remind his majesty, five hundred beautiful girls in his majesty’s harem. Exactly as per specification. Now, if his majesty has specified five hundred beautiful girls, it is only reasonable to suppose that he felt himself capable of servicing five hundred beautiful girls. All of whom have perfectly normal appetites. And nothing much to do except think about satisfying those perfectly normal appetites.’

I could feel King Albert going a bit red beside me. ‘Ah well,’ he said. ‘You see – ’

Esmerelda cut him off.

‘In the four weeks which have elapsed since the last meeting of this joint union-management committee, his majesty has serviced only twenty of the harem girls. Of those twenty, thirteen have lodged formal complaints about the duration of the servicing, eight have complained about the size of his majesty’s equipment, and twelve have reported that his majesty got their name wrong. Even after he had been told what it was. Twice.’