Serial The Binman

 

Serial the Bin Man

Once upon a time there was a small man that lived in a dirty dustbin. His clothes were made of simple cloth and smell of rubbish. The man himself smells like he’s never once had a bath in his life. He is thirty and hasn’t seen a soul for twenty years. He speaks with a lisp and he only likes his own company.  His name was Sirel.

One morning he opened his bin and there to surprise him was a huge figure of a man.

“What are you doing?”

The man looks at him in disgust.

“O no,” says Sirel, “You’re going to make a move out!”

“Yes get out you dirty little rat.”

“Fine I’m going!”

“Yes!” said the said the huge man, “Now I can move this stupid dustbin.”

“Fine!” said Sirel, “I’m going to make myself a new life. You never know maybe I’ll become a billionaire!”

“GET OUT!!”

“I’m going!” said Sirel.

Sirel walked out of the big gates and as he left his cosy old dustbin and faced the big wide world he couldn’t believe he was leaving his home. However he was ready for a new and exciting adventure. As he walked away that night he sang a tuneful song and skipped along excited at the prospect of his new life.

Sirel soon came to a place he remembered he knew from before he moved into his dustbin. A shop. He walked in curious to see what was inside. He met an old friend.

“O Sirel I haven’t seen ye in a while. How is ye doing? Moved out that ere dustbin then ave we?”

“Yes I have quite frankly been very rudely asked to leave the premises! Have you old boy got anything to eat, I’m so hungry I could eat a cow!”

“Yes,” said Bill, Sirel now remembered him as being the nice old chap who owned the shop, “We have this new place in town. Lovely it is. Subway, have ye heard of it. Not many have, but it does serve the lovely good old foot tika masala sandwich.  It’s lovely; I tell ya Sirel I walk passed that place and dribble like a dog. And tell ye what we’ll go now because my tummy is a’rumbling too.

 

Sirel had never quite been anywhere as wonderful as Subway in his life. The cuisine and service was luxurious. Personally Sirel wouldn’t be surprised if the queen walked in and sat down! Him and Bill brought their sandwiches. Bill had chicken tika masala with lettuce tomato and pepper.  Whilst Sirel being accustomed to the good old English taste had a sandwich containing exactly three thinly cut slices of cheddar cheese (extra mature of course) five very thinly cut slices of tomato and ten thick cut slices of cucumber (o how he liked his cucumber) this was then drizzled with vinegar. Though none of it was quite as tasty as the mould he used to eat that was growing on the inside of his dustbin it was a pretty delectable meal.

Bill, very slowly, peered down at Serial clothes and grimaced. The tatty loin cloth he was wearing wasn’t quite the fashion Bill was used to.

“What?” said Serial looking at Bill in surprise.

“I know where we need to go next. SHOPPING!”

“But where will I find clothes as fashionable and fitting as I need?”

“Well New Look of course!” Bill screamed.

So the pair ventured with excitement up to New Look. Serial ran into the shop and fingered the fine stitching of each garment. O how soft the material. Serial picked up a pink frock and tried it on. Bill observed him with glee.

“O how that frock brings the colour out in your face Serial.”

They spent most of the afternoon in New Look with their trained fashion and makeup surgeons. Serial had his hair washed, cut and died. A pedicure and manicure! His teeth whitened, straightened and brushed. He picked shoes, jeans, trousers everything he ever dreamed of!  As Bill and Serial were walking home Bill asked Serial, “Where have you been all this time Serial?”

“In a dustbin.”

“A dustbin! My god how did you survive! Why would you ever end up living in a place like that?”

“Well I, mother and father had a huge fall out. You see we were redecorating and I, of course, wanted my room to be painted a sort of violet colour but mother said it just wouldn’t go with the colour scheme of the rest of the house. I refused to change my mind and they said I had to leave. I realised the only place left was the dustbin enclosed in those big gates in Hathaway Park. I never quite understood why it was covered in barbed wire and was enclosed in large black gates but I figured it was my last resort. That is where I have been living for the past twenty long years!”

Slowly an orchestra of violins started to play softly in the background and Bill and Serial embraced in a loving hug.

“I no longer want to talk about it!” said Serial dramatically.

“Fine,” said Bill, “We need to sort your life out! First things first you need a job. What are you good at?”

“Well to be honest,” said Serial sadly, “I don’t really know because I’ve never had a job.”

“Don’t worry Serial we shall find you one!”

Bill brought Serial a new smart black suite, a watch, a hat, shoes and all the trimmings.

“You look wonderful Serial. Now all you have to do is get back with your parents and think of the kind of job you could have.”

“Well I suppose I could sacrifice my violet to go with the pink colour scheme mummy wanted. But I still really can’t think of what to do for my job!”

Then the idea came to him, almost out of nowhere. He realised what his whole life was aspiring to. He had always been good in school, top of class, incredibly good at every, never ever put a foot out of line. He had the business acumen, the look. He knew what he wanted to be, it was just about the greatest job for him. He smiled with anticipation as he looked at Bill and said,

“I know what I’m going to be!”

“What?!” Bill said wanting to know.

“A bin man.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

by tabs123