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The Private Life of Genghis Khan
by Idéfix Mon May 07, 2012 4:44 pm
Enjoy this funny take on the great Khan. Rashmun's attempts to laud and glorify him remind me of the bulldozer team manager character in the Guide who traces his descent to Genghis Khan.
http://www.douglasadams.com/dna/980707-07-s.html
http://www.douglasadams.com/dna/980707-07-s.html
Idéfix- Posts : 8808
Join date : 2012-04-26
Location : Berkeley, CA
Re: The Private Life of Genghis Khan
by Idéfix Mon May 07, 2012 7:06 pm
Here is the descendant of the great Khan who figures in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Enjoy...
PS: Rashmun, if you have frequent visions of an unidentified army of horsemen laughing at you in your head: congratulations, it's good news!
Mr L Prosser was, as they say, only human. In other words he was
a carbon-based life form descended from an ape. More specifically
he was forty, fat and shabby and worked for the local council.
Curiously enough, though he didn't know it, he was also a direct
male-line descendant of Genghis Khan, though intervening
generations and racial mixing had so juggled his genes that he
had no discernible Mongoloid characteristics, and the only
vestiges left in Mr L Prosser of his mighty ancestry were a
pronounced stoutness about the tum and a predilection for little
fur hats.
He was by no means a great warrior: in fact he was a nervous
worried man. Today he was particularly nervous and worried
because something had gone seriously wrong with his job - which
was to see that Arthur Dent's house got cleared out of the way
before the day was out.
...
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, but it was equally
uncomfortable on each. Obviously somebody had been appallingly
incompetent and he hoped to God it wasn't him.
...
Mr Prosser's mouth opened and closed a couple of times while his
mind was for a moment filled with inexplicable but terribly
attractive visions of Arthur Dent's house being consumed with
fire and Arthur himself running screaming from the blazing ruin
with at least three hefty spears protruding from his back. Mr
Prosser was often bothered with visions like these and they made
him feel very nervous. He stuttered for a moment and then pulled
himself together.
...
"Thank you very much," said Mr Prosser who no longer knew how to
play this at all, "thank you very much, yes, that's very kind
..." He frowned, then smiled, then tried to do both at once,
failed, grasped hold of his fur hat and rolled it fitfully round
the top of his head. He could only assume that he had just won.
"So," continued Ford Prefect, "if you would just like to come
over here and lie down ..."
"What?" said Mr Prosser.
"Ah, I'm sorry," said Ford, "perhaps I hadn't made myself fully
clear. Somebody's got to lie in front of the bulldozers haven't
they? Or there won't be anything to stop them driving into Mr
Dent's house will there?"
"What?" said Mr Prosser again.
"It's very simple," said Ford, "my client, Mr Dent, says that he
will stop lying here in the mud on the sole condition that you
come and take over from him."
"What are you talking about?" said Arthur, but Ford nudged him
with his shoe to be quiet.
"You want me," said Mr Prosser, spelling out this new thought to
himself, "to come and lie there ..."
"Yes."
"In front of the bulldozer?"
"Yes."
"Instead of Mr Dent."
"Yes."
"In the mud."
"In, as you say it, the mud."
As soon as Mr Prosser realized that he was substantially the
loser after all, it was as if a weight lifted itself off his
shoulders: this was more like the world as he knew it. He sighed.
"In return for which you will take Mr Dent with you down to the
pub?"
"That's it," said Ford. "That's it exactly."
Mr Prosser took a few nervous steps forward and stopped.
"Promise?"
"Promise," said Ford. He turned to Arthur.
"Come on," he said to him, "get up and let the man lie down."
Arthur stood up, feeling as if he was in a dream.
Ford beckoned to Prosser who sadly, awkwardly, sat down in the
mud. He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he
sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying
it. The mud folded itself round his bottom and his arms and oozed
into his shoes.
Ford looked at him severely.
"And no sneaky knocking down Mr Dent's house whilst he's away,
alright?" he said.
"The mere thought," growled Mr Prosser, "hadn't even begun to
speculate," he continued, settling himself back, "about the
merest possibility of crossing my mind."
He saw the bulldozer driver's union representative approaching
and let his head sink back and closed his eyes. He was trying to
marshal his arguments for proving that he did not now constitute
a mental health hazard himself. He was far from certain about
this - his mind seemed to be full of noise, horses, smoke, and
the stench of blood. This always happened when he felt miserable
and put upon, and he had never been able to explain it to
himself. In a high dimension of which we know nothing the mighty
Khan bellowed with rage, but Mr Prosser only trembled slightly
and whimpered. He began to fell little pricks of water behind the
eyelids. Bureaucratic cock-ups, angry men lying in the mud,
indecipherable strangers handing out inexplicable humiliations
and an unidentified army of horsemen laughing at him in his head
- what a day.
PS: Rashmun, if you have frequent visions of an unidentified army of horsemen laughing at you in your head: congratulations, it's good news!
Mr L Prosser was, as they say, only human. In other words he was
a carbon-based life form descended from an ape. More specifically
he was forty, fat and shabby and worked for the local council.
Curiously enough, though he didn't know it, he was also a direct
male-line descendant of Genghis Khan, though intervening
generations and racial mixing had so juggled his genes that he
had no discernible Mongoloid characteristics, and the only
vestiges left in Mr L Prosser of his mighty ancestry were a
pronounced stoutness about the tum and a predilection for little
fur hats.
He was by no means a great warrior: in fact he was a nervous
worried man. Today he was particularly nervous and worried
because something had gone seriously wrong with his job - which
was to see that Arthur Dent's house got cleared out of the way
before the day was out.
...
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, but it was equally
uncomfortable on each. Obviously somebody had been appallingly
incompetent and he hoped to God it wasn't him.
...
Mr Prosser's mouth opened and closed a couple of times while his
mind was for a moment filled with inexplicable but terribly
attractive visions of Arthur Dent's house being consumed with
fire and Arthur himself running screaming from the blazing ruin
with at least three hefty spears protruding from his back. Mr
Prosser was often bothered with visions like these and they made
him feel very nervous. He stuttered for a moment and then pulled
himself together.
...
"Thank you very much," said Mr Prosser who no longer knew how to
play this at all, "thank you very much, yes, that's very kind
..." He frowned, then smiled, then tried to do both at once,
failed, grasped hold of his fur hat and rolled it fitfully round
the top of his head. He could only assume that he had just won.
"So," continued Ford Prefect, "if you would just like to come
over here and lie down ..."
"What?" said Mr Prosser.
"Ah, I'm sorry," said Ford, "perhaps I hadn't made myself fully
clear. Somebody's got to lie in front of the bulldozers haven't
they? Or there won't be anything to stop them driving into Mr
Dent's house will there?"
"What?" said Mr Prosser again.
"It's very simple," said Ford, "my client, Mr Dent, says that he
will stop lying here in the mud on the sole condition that you
come and take over from him."
"What are you talking about?" said Arthur, but Ford nudged him
with his shoe to be quiet.
"You want me," said Mr Prosser, spelling out this new thought to
himself, "to come and lie there ..."
"Yes."
"In front of the bulldozer?"
"Yes."
"Instead of Mr Dent."
"Yes."
"In the mud."
"In, as you say it, the mud."
As soon as Mr Prosser realized that he was substantially the
loser after all, it was as if a weight lifted itself off his
shoulders: this was more like the world as he knew it. He sighed.
"In return for which you will take Mr Dent with you down to the
pub?"
"That's it," said Ford. "That's it exactly."
Mr Prosser took a few nervous steps forward and stopped.
"Promise?"
"Promise," said Ford. He turned to Arthur.
"Come on," he said to him, "get up and let the man lie down."
Arthur stood up, feeling as if he was in a dream.
Ford beckoned to Prosser who sadly, awkwardly, sat down in the
mud. He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he
sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying
it. The mud folded itself round his bottom and his arms and oozed
into his shoes.
Ford looked at him severely.
"And no sneaky knocking down Mr Dent's house whilst he's away,
alright?" he said.
"The mere thought," growled Mr Prosser, "hadn't even begun to
speculate," he continued, settling himself back, "about the
merest possibility of crossing my mind."
He saw the bulldozer driver's union representative approaching
and let his head sink back and closed his eyes. He was trying to
marshal his arguments for proving that he did not now constitute
a mental health hazard himself. He was far from certain about
this - his mind seemed to be full of noise, horses, smoke, and
the stench of blood. This always happened when he felt miserable
and put upon, and he had never been able to explain it to
himself. In a high dimension of which we know nothing the mighty
Khan bellowed with rage, but Mr Prosser only trembled slightly
and whimpered. He began to fell little pricks of water behind the
eyelids. Bureaucratic cock-ups, angry men lying in the mud,
indecipherable strangers handing out inexplicable humiliations
and an unidentified army of horsemen laughing at him in his head
- what a day.
Idéfix- Posts : 8808
Join date : 2012-04-26
Location : Berkeley, CA
Re: The Private Life of Genghis Khan
by Idéfix Tue May 08, 2012 12:02 am
The second short story is funny and to the point:
"Genghis Khan," he said, "you are a wanker; you are a tosspot; you are a very tiny piece of turd. Thank you." With that he retreated into his ship and flew off.
http://www.douglasadams.com/dna/980707-07-s.html
"Genghis Khan," he said, "you are a wanker; you are a tosspot; you are a very tiny piece of turd. Thank you." With that he retreated into his ship and flew off.
http://www.douglasadams.com/dna/980707-07-s.html
Idéfix- Posts : 8808
Join date : 2012-04-26
Location : Berkeley, CA
Re: The Private Life of Genghis Khan
by Merlot Daruwala Tue May 08, 2012 2:15 am
Haha...hilarious. Many thanks for the link.
LOL@ the ending of the first story..
I can't stand it!" cried the woman and collapsed on the floor. She flung herself on the great Khan's feet. "Don't torment me," she wailed, "if you mean to rape me, then rape me, but don't..."
The great Khan surged to his feet and glowered down at her. "No," he muttered savagely, "you'd only laugh - you're just like all the others."
He stormed out of the hut and rode off into the night in such a rage that almost forgot to burn down the village before he left.
LOL@ the ending of the first story..
I can't stand it!" cried the woman and collapsed on the floor. She flung herself on the great Khan's feet. "Don't torment me," she wailed, "if you mean to rape me, then rape me, but don't..."
The great Khan surged to his feet and glowered down at her. "No," he muttered savagely, "you'd only laugh - you're just like all the others."
He stormed out of the hut and rode off into the night in such a rage that almost forgot to burn down the village before he left.
Merlot Daruwala- Posts : 5005
Join date : 2011-04-29
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