Wherever You Like

 

Perry, Harry, Carrie, Cary, Cory and I had a lot in common.  The thing we most had in common was that we all despised, in equal measure, names like Barry, Larry, Garry, Jerry, Terri, Gary, Terry, Sherri and Mary, and of course, our own names. The other thing we had in common was that we hated everything else, too.

We had decided that it was time to do something about these sickening names.

Firstly, we would track down every parent who had ever assigned one of these disgustingly sugary names to one of their offspring, tie them up in mohair wool and throw them off a mountain in Switzerland. This would, of course, mean tracking down our own parents. Some of our parents wouldn't need tracking down, though, because we knew exactly where they were.

My parents, for example, were each at their respective places of employment; my mother at the carpet-unravelling factory, and my other mother at the autumn-leaf copying plant.

Cary and Cory pointed out that some of our parents were not guilty, because they had not initially given these names in their vile and atrocious shortened forms. Harry and Carrie, for instance. It was suggested that they themselves had been responsible for their own icky names, or more possibly, their friends or siblings had.

Carrie conceded that this was correct, but Harry, eager to be included in the ''parental punishment by trussing up and demontagnation'' argued that his name had not been abbreviated, from Harold, as Cary and Cory assumed. Carrie looked enviously at Cary, and asked if she could help him with his parents' demise. But then Perry drew our attention to the fact that Carrie's parents were still at fault, for the very fact that they had given her a name; namely, Caroline, that was shortenable into one of these nauseating forms. This brightened Carrie's mood considerably. So much so that she insisted that we have a celebratory party.

We drove to Perry's house to pick up a few bottles of his homemade carrot champagne, then partied till dawn in the middle of the high street, drinking toast after toast to our hapless parents, and planning our joint patricides.

Then, this morning, Cory suggested that, ultimately, it wasn't really the fault of our parents at all, that we'd been given these names. It was fault of society in general, and that to effect a just punishment we'd actually have to kill everyone, including people in the past, who were already dead.

We were disappointed, naturally. After all, we'd been gearing ourselves up all night for our brilliant campaign. But one by one, we all accepted it, shrugged our shoulders and had a cup of porcini mushroom soup instead.

The End

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