... and so to bed(court)...

Several more weeks of continued problems, two meetings and three increasingly powerful letters from Effectivo the Magnificent and nothing had changed at The Living Nightmare. Indeed, even the architects were worried, and had promised to intervene for the boys, but on the day of their scheduled meeting with GASTLI, the architects all had to go out and buy new BMW’s, so the meeting was cancelled.

Mazzer and FooFoo instructed Effectivo to tell GASTLI that unless more cold hard greenbacks were forthcoming, then RILED would remove themselves from TLN, sue them for the money they were owed, and cross them off their Christmas card list.

GASTLI ignored them completely.

RILED was (and were) left with no choice. FooFoo got a great big marker pen and emphatically crossed GASTLI off their Christmas card list. Our little crew were now officially renegades, outlaws and rebels. They packed up their carpentry essentials – kettle, stools, playing cards, and company pencil – and left TLN for good.

Sixteen and a half minutes later Mazzer, FooFoo, Politico Steve and Whiskey Tom were at the bar of the Oxford. Mastic Craig, who you may notice has mysteriously disappeared from this Chronicle, had, like an elf in Lord of the Rings, actually disappeared weeks earlier from the ken of mortal men, and to this day, no-one knows where he is, although six months later a series of very ugly babies were born in Ontario. So he was’nt there. But the rest of the boys got drunk

And that, as they say, was that. We sued GASTLI for what they owed us, lets say £30,000.00. They offered us $7000.00. We offered to settle for £17,500. They counter offered for $7005.00. We countered their counter offer with an offer to settle for $15,000. They countered our counter to their counter offer by sueing us for $100,000. We got a new lawyer, who is very good, and says we will definitely win. All of this has taken over a year so far, and finally we instructed our lawyer to apply for a court date. We expect to go to court in Fall 2007.

Effectivo The Magnificent

The oligarchy of Republic/Irecan/Lucid/Exact Domestical (respectively Stevies/FooFoo’s/Mazzer’s and Whiskey Tom’s Companies) could not be found, for a change in the Oxford Arms, but individually were, and collectively was, in a Dilemma. Dilemma are not, at least not yet, new models of Japanese hybrid cars, but are in fact Very Serious Situations.

The problem was rooted in that originally Mazzer and FooFoo had agreed to work at LOPBAMP! for a fixed amount of money – all things being equal. Unfortunately, all things were not equal, and GASTLI had made such a pigs ear of all the doings that needed doing, that the project was incomplete, and the fixed amount of money had been spent ( on wages by Mazzer and FooFoo, although they remained unpaid by GASTLI). The project, which Mazzer now simply called TLN (The Living Nightmare) was either half completed “strong” or remained a quarter uncompleted “weak”. Mazzer and FooFoo thought that GASTLI should find some extra cash to pay for completion, as it was GASTLI’s Bakunin-influenced approach to making things that had led to this Very Serious Situation in the first place. Everyone said so, even the architect, who quite liked RILED.

GASTLI for their part had reacted to this Very Serious Situation by simply stopping paying the newly formed RILED, even for work that had been done weeks previously, and had announced that they would continue to un-pay our hapless quartet unless they agreed to

a) stop laughing at GASTLI’s millwork and custom cabinetry

b) complete the project for the originally agreed price

c) stop helping Marky by telling him mistakes that GASTLI had made. Apparently, things went a lot smoother if you ignored mistakes completely.

The Dilemma that our crew therefore faced was whether to work for nothing until GASTLI actually got anything right, or whether to go and play somewhere else and find another way of getting enough money to keep the Oxford Arms in business, while trying to recover the money GASTLI owed them.

Advice from a Higher Power was obviously needed, but as the group were all atheists, a God substitute would have to do. Around about this time, the financial and political savvy of the mysterious Dr Large had begun to figure in the group’s collective decision making. This shadowy figure had begun to take an interest in the situation because she is what is inadequately described as Mazzer’s other half. Her interest in the events had really been kindled when the amount of treats she had been able to buy for her cats had begun to be limited due to cash-flow problems Mazzer was experiencing. DrLarge, advised from the fastness of her fiendish mountaintop laboratory that a lawyer would be the omnipotent power that RILED needed, and that she would fund the acquisition of same if it meant that at a later date, her cats would be able to eat all the treats Mazzer could buy them. As she was under 5'4" high, Dr Large was undoubtedly possessed of phenomenal powers both of logic and intellect, and Mazzer immediately began consulting the Yellow Pages.

Mazzer and FooFoo knew nothing about lawyers but their choice appeared impressive. “EFFECTIVO THE MAGNIFICENT” his business card exclaimed, “EXPERT IN TRAFFIC TICKETS, INTERNATIONAL LAW, REAL ESTATE AND CORPORATE LAW. HOME TUITION IN GEOGRAPHY A SPECIALITY”. Rod Effectivo himself, was no less impressive – he had no need to write anything down, and was extremely dexterous in re-arranging the cuff-links on his shirt. He obviously showered vigourously and enthusiastically, because he was very clean.

Effectivo the Magnificent assured Mazzer and FooFoo that he could resolve the whole situation within two weeks, and a letter from a powerful lawyer such as himself would do the trick; that everyone would agree it was a terrible misunderstanding and GASTLI and RILED would all be friends.

Unfortunately, since their first meeting, the boys had come to suspect that Effectivo was not quite as brilliant or as powerful as he claimed. For a start, whenever they phoned his offices, the receptionist told them he was making tea for his (or possibly “the”) partners, and would call them back as soon as the kettle had boiled. Effectivo also seemed to have an unconventional approach to law, attempting to pursue their disagreement with GASTLI under the procedures governing unpaid traffic tickets. Nevertheless, our Company Of carpenters continued to work and give Effectivo a chance to work his magic.

in Which Stevie comes out to play and Tom tastes a horrid taste......

Four million, eight hundred and thirty eight and some four hundred seconds later Little Bunny Foo Foo and Mazzer were NOT in the Oxford Arms getting drunk. Accuracy is important in these matters, and an accurate statement would be that Little Bunny Foo Foo, Mazzer AND Politico Steve AND Whisky Tom and Mastic Craig were in the Oxford Arms getting drunk (as quickly as possible). It was Friday pay day, and everyone should have been happy, but confusion reigned.

“I want my pork PULLED…” shouted Stevie, “Close the US/Canada border!” declared Foo Foo, “The domestication of the Bos Primogenitus IS interesting” protested Mazzer, “No, no, no, HADDOCK!”, called Stevie. “….and I don’t just like rye cos it makes you feel funny” Tom wailed, then continued “My head hurts”. Mastic Craig was trying to sweet talk to the barmaid, Claire. Claire’s husband looked on, un-amused.

Many things had changed recently. Crazed military dictatorships had been caught lying about the military capacity of their enemies, thus undermining their credibility. Most of the barstaff of the Oxford had been fired in murky circumstances which Mastic did'nt want to talk about, and Foo Foo had learned that the Wiggles were a global franchise, not a single foursome of uniquely talented Australians. He had’nt been able to sing “Beep, Beep, Chugga, Chugga Big Red Car” with quite the same enthusiasm since this discovery.

Unfortunately at the Biggest, Poshest Architectural Millwork Project, nothing had changed. If accuracy matters, as referred to previously, then the correct description of affairs would include the words “deteriorated”, “much” and “very”. This, despite three Very Important Meetings between GAS (now renamed GASTLI – Good And Slow Lies To Installers) and our now expanded group of playmates. (It appears that the earlier incarnation was only provisional). At the first meeting, GASTLI had first promised to make things go “more betterer”. At the second meeting, GASTLI had double promised, in writing, that things “wunt git much mores worserer”. At the third meeting, JR had taken control, told everyone that he “dint uset ter had a pot wot to pee-pee in” and then started shouting at LBFF and Mazzer.

At first, Mazzer and Foo Foo thought JR was angry and jealous because they could do joined up writing better than any of the Rots, even Marky. Some time ago LBFF and Mazzer had promised Marky that they’d send him a short note “immediately” if they noticed that GASTLI had made any mistakes. This was so Marky could fix the mistakes. Mazzer and Foo Foo kept their promise, which meant that they’d had a lot of practice writing and were now quite good at it.

Later, Politico Stevie, Whisky Tom, Mazzer and Foo Foo put their heads together and thought very hard. Like a flash it came to them – JR was shouting at them because that’s how you do Business, specifically Business operated under the B.L.A.M.E Management System. Under this System, getting shouted at was to be expected – it was just a part of Business. GASTLI had shouted at Twenty Something until he had gone away. Then they’d replaced him with Wince, Whine and Complain and shouted at him. Then they’d replaced him with Algenon and shouted at him. Now, it was only right that the finger of blame should be pointed at our boys. As Foo Foo pointed out, it was no longer fair to point the finger at anyone who worked for GASTLI , because hardly any of them had fingers to point back with.

Later that day though, after Steve had had his pork pulled, Tom’s head had stopped hurting and then started again, Foo Foo had counted all the Big Red cars he could see in the car park, and Mazzer had told another fascinating story about early crop domestication, our Anglo Irish Canadian Scouse Cornish Conglomerate collectively came to the conclusion that for them, the B.L.A.M.E system was not going to help. Something had to be done.

Little Bunny Foo Foo and the Very Special Talent ...

On a cold frosty Friday afternoon in January, twenty-eight days after London Ontario’s Poshest Biggest Architectural Millwork Project !(LOPBAMP !) started, Mazzer and Little Bunny Foo Foo were in the Oxford Arms getting drunk as quickly as possible. It had become apparent that GAS were collectively possessed of very special talents.

GAS were a family company, founded by a tough, old, easily dislikeable patriarch called Jerry Rot, at a time when he had, (as he frequently reminded LBFF), “not even a pot to piss in when I started”. Nonetheless, like many self-proclaimed “self made men”, Jerry had enough fox-like cunning, ambition and bestial nastiness to build his company up to become a profitable entity, operated using Early Feudalism as a model. JR was in the process of handing GAS to his sons. Unfortunately, although Jerry had made himself quite successfully, he had not applied the same diligence to making his offspring, and the sons, “Marky”, “Peetey” and “The One with Weird Eyes”, had all developed with essential parts like intelligence, honour, truthfulness and decency missing. They did inherit their father’s sneakiness and love of money, but the only other discernable characteristic they displayed was an arrogance, of the type associated in the Old World with aristocracy.

Marky, Peety and the “One With The Weird Eyes” ran the three divisions of GAS – respectively Woodworking, Electrical, Bingo Halls – as cheaply as possible, but invested most of their time in internecine fighting. An employee of GAS told Foo Foo that recent family squabbles had focused on Marky’s son, Mark Two, who had been hired by Electrical to work on a large contract, awarded by the local Education board, to refit schools during the vacations. Once employed, Mark Two wasted no time, and set up a profitable sideline stealing school laptops and selling them on. Predictably, he got caught, and the family’s ire was now focused on Marky, because it had cost the Rots a considerable amount of money to pay off the school board and hush the whole thing up. Naturally, Foo Foo and Mazzer paid no attention to these scurrilous rumours and did not spend any time tell them to anyone who would listen.

Running a company cheaply usually means paying cheap wages which invariably means employing undermotivated, unqualified, inexperienced, young, unskilled staff. This was reflected in the GAS workforce. The more senior members of the Woodworking staff invariably lacked a finger or two and all, young and old were managed by Marky using the B.L.A.M.E management system {don’t Blame Anything on Me it’s the Employee’s fault}. In the case of LOPBAMP!, Marky had passed all responsibility over to a hopelessly out-of-his-depth twenty-something, and the trouble, and the project had started.

Twenty-something was in charge of a team of eighteen year olds who set about producing custom cabinets as quickly as they were capable. Unfortunately, having little experience in either woodworking, or in running projects larger than their own Grade Six Science Experiment, was a hinderance towards the final broader goal, which was to make kitchen cabinets quickly, its true, but also to make cabinets that actually fit correctly in their final destination. Emphasizing the former part of the objective, the team first made some radical decisions in respect of measurement. In a daring shift towards speed, they decided to expand on the “strong/weak” measurement system, expanding its parameters to ignore not only most of the troublesome increments between each inch, but also distracting side issues like “left”, “right”, “upper” and “lower”. Similairly, in a continuing drive towards efficiency, they abandoned cabinet shelving, plans, labeling, handles, door hinges and cabinet bases as relics of a bygone age.

This Cultural Revolution reached a peak when in a stroke of genius, they decided to stop making, or shipping complete kitchens altogether, and focus instead, on just make the easiest element of each kitchen. The effect of this was that instead of complete kitchens being received on-site, each of the 192 expectant kitchens only received one or two of the ten or twelve cabinets it had been promised. Apart from the fact that walking through LOPBAMP! randomly screwing single cabinets to walls represented a diversion to the pattern of work IRA(Not Inc) had planned, other tradespeople were becoming suspicious of the efficacy of the GAS system. Plumbers expecting to plumb, electricians hoping to wire and painters expecting to slap a last coat down were all reduced to standing round discussing philosophy and Paris Hilton.

It was this situation that Little Bunny Foo Foo and Mazzer were analyzing a month after starting the project. Their schedule, when they had estimated the job had been to complete the project in four months. Based on current progress, the boys’ Excel Sheet told them that they could now confidently expect completion in about two and a half years. Cuba was looking a long way off. Marky Rot had been contacted, and the problem had been explained to him. At first he failed to grasp the significance “Oh, you always get these teething problems”, he explained. On being pressed however, he admitted that the students who were to occupy each suite in just over five months time might find presence of carpenters, plumbers, electricians and painters in their kitchen a disturbance to their studies.

A meeting was declared necessary to sort the problem out. In the Oxford, Mazzer, who held the Rots in total contempt, was dreading the meeting, and was drinking heavily to subdue the bad taste that had come to accompany his dealings with GAS. Foo Foo, who was a brave little bunny, was drinking in anticipation, because he liked righting wrongs, and telling off bad people. Either way, both partners of IRA(Not Inc) were hoping that next week would see the end of their current Troubles.

Mazzer and Little Bunny Foo Foo have a busy day...

Little Bunny Foo Foo mumbled something that sounded like “In Iceland, events are a fish westerly caught” and slumped off his bar stool. Now that LBFF had joined him on the floor, Mazzer was able to make the point he’d been trying to make for the last fifteen minutes. “We need to talk to a leech”. LBFF looked blankly at Mazzer. “You know, a leech, who can prostitute for us”. Rob, the owner of the Oxford Arms, (or “the office”) as we called it, leaned over the bar and clarified matters “I know a good lawyer, if that’s what you need. Someone who can prosecute for you. And I agree, revenge IS a dish best eaten cold. But I think you’d better get home now, I’ll call Keys Please”.

A lawyer was indeed what was needed if we were to rescue anything from the disastrous project that as President and Other President of Irecan/Republic Architectural (Not Incorporated) we’d been discussing. The following account of that project is of course, entirely fictional and bears no resemblance to any actual persons or events that are or may be the subject of a lawsuit in the Higher Court of Ontario, or anywhere else for that matter.

Our heroic finish carpenters (for that was their business) first met after being introduced by a mutual acquaintance who was fascinated by cheap Chinese tools. Escaping the monotone droning of Mr Cheapdeal led to a dingy downtown London sports bar where Little Bunny Foo Foo thrashed Mazzer at pool, darts, shove ha’penny, pool (again), shuffleboard and mental arithmetic before deciding that they could work together. A week later, hurtling down the 401 towards Hamilton in LBFF’s Civic at 140kph, the car’s barely rubberized tyres clinging to the road, the partnership was born.

The boys decided that because of Foo Foo’s distain for keeping records, paperwork, taxes and observance of regulations (he described the speed limit as ‘guidelines’), Mazzer would handle the finances, taxes, legal stuff and contracts, while Foo Foo (who if he’d been a Spice Girl would have been described as ‘The Really- no I mean REALLY- Scary One’) was in charge of the day to day work - Operations, Site Management and Shouting at People.

Over the next three years the partnership went from tiny little projects, barely earning the boys their Tim Hortons money, to securing the biggest Architectural Millwork (posh carpentry) project in Ontario. Irecan/Republic Architectural (Not Inc.) scored top marks with architects and woodworking firms, successfully pulling off projects like the Hanging Panels Of Chatham, The Library/Stripjoint Fitout, The East Side Mario’s That Went South and The Little Doors That Could’nt. Our Celtic chums survived meeting characters like Terrytubby, who’d twice won awards as World’s Most Obnoxious Man, and who told Foo Foo, after a particularly heated argument about American Imperialism that if he did’nt like it in Canada he could “f*** off back to his own continent”, which only served to confirm Foo Foo’s view of the importance of Ireland on the World Stage.

Increasingly, as projects got bigger, IRA(Not Inc) engaged additional help, especially Politico Steve, another very talented craftsman who always came through when deadlines were tight, despite the fact that he was often busy losing his deposit in local elections.

Finally, in January 2006, a long awaited contract, the biggest of its type in Ontario that year, installing 192 kitchens in a local Halls Of Residence, commenced. The contract was awarded by a local cabinetry company who we’ll call Good And Slow. Our fearless contractors had some minor reservations about working for this company because they’d seen employees taking site measurements for the custom kitchens Good and Slow were to produce. GAS’s employees had a rather unconventional system of measurement, which employed words instead of fractional numerical increments. For example, when measuring a dimension slightly over forty one and a half inches, and slightly less than forty one and three quarter inches, the measurer would proclaim the dimension to be “forty one and a half ‘strong’”, or “forty one and three quarters ‘weak’”. The relationship between “strong” and “weak” and more traditional measurements also seemed to be time dependant, in that on Friday afternoons “strong” or “weak” took on a broader meaning, encompassing more fractions than it did on Monday morning.

These reservations notwithstanding, the project was a relatively straightforward one and calculations were being made of how long we could vacation in Cuba after it was done. It would take a very special kind of talent to make a mess of this project, and, as we unloaded our carpentry essentials on-site – kettle, stools, playing cards – spirits were high. Then the project started.