A
dapper, sturdy, black and stern-faced man emerges from the outlet of a
gigantic edifice of multifarious colours known as the Building of
Authority. In his black suit and dinky tie he walks
briskly to the news board known as HERALD stationed in the front of
Linguistics Department where student readers feed their beady eyes with
news and caustic tirades. Seeing an article titled “Ajimoti, the Monster of Our Time”, he pokes his head to read and readjusts his spectacles in countless times. He reads, pauses, reads, then pauses and sighs at last.
THE MAN: What!( Standing akimbo and fuming.) who…who are the heartless writers of these pieces?( He glances through other conspicuous titles while the student readers cast weird looks at him setting to go.) The students have taken the law in to their hands that they could lambast their fathers’ mate with their wandering pens? They would never write with their names, no! They would disguise with their useless pseudonyms. But once, once I promise. They will face the music. (He fumbles in his pocket and removes a phone which he blunders with, speaking in staccato. A set of virile students come to his aid from the same Building of Authority.) Quick! Quick! Quick! Haul the stinking board away from the vantage and cram it there. (He
tears some articles from the board while his aides haul the board into
the lobby where other minor boards are. The remaining student readers
look sheepishly as THE MAN and his aides leave the locus.)
EDITOR 1: (from afar, he wipes his brow in disbelief and bends several times to catch the glimpse of the abducted board. He pauses and resumes with swift but timid paces till he arrives the locus.) Hmmm! (Wagging his head.) Where is the board? (Shaking in dismay.) Haters of justice! Lovers of evil! They have started again? (He catches the glimpse of the board in the lobby and moves towards it.) How could they? How could they keep their eyes off the board that pricks their filthy conscience? They have torn them, our prominent articles. (Speaking loudly.) We write the best news on this campus. Our critics are the cavalier critics of all. We paint reality. We fret at no one’s personality. Therefore an assault is expected. We are the target of assailants. Which board could they have hauled away if not ours? See that. (Pointing to the Linguistics Students Association board, LSA.) Their news is the barest. Their articles are devoid of creativity. They have no prolific writers. The only jest, they only joke.
EDITOR 2: (Goggling and seething, rising from the bench and trundling like a locomotive. He snaps at the prating EDITOR 1 while EDITOR 1 flinches in surprise.) I will not take that from you. I would not even suggest that your mouth betrayed you; you betrayed your mouth rather. What do you write? You malign, you slander the authority. Of course we write too but we don’t vilify. We love our leaders. We embrace them. We appraise them. Who is perfect but none. Your stench even reeks around you.
EDITOR 1: Pardon me. I will not continue in ricochet of words with you. (EDITOR 1 moves to the board and pushes it to the centre. EDITOR 2 follows him and shoves it back. They continue shoving each other’s boards until they reach a seeming consensus. The
small, light board by Association of Creative Thinkers, ACT is heaved
away, cramped at one cramped vicinity by EDITOR 2 and places his there
while the two editors part in resentment.)
EDITOR 1: Ruthless coxcomb.
EDITOR 2: Useless pen pusher.
EDITOR 3 :( A stooped bohemian in business like look. He is the editor of ACT. He climbs down the steps, arriving the spot with saturnine looks having seen his board crammed in the shade. ) He stammers in apoplectic rage.) Wwwwhat nonsense is this? The board is that light to be toyed with like a bbbbaby? (He eyes the LSA board with resentment and gives it some hasty kicks) Rubbish! (Kicks) Nonsense! (Kicks) Damn you! (He shoves LSA’s board to its former position and carries his board to its former position.)
EDITOR 2: (Having seen EDITOR 3, withdraws from his clique) Man, you must have lost your senses.
EDITOR 3: You must have lost yours some years before. (They both stand, starring at each other prominently.)
EDITOR 2: Don’t be funny!
EDITOR 3: Don’t be tricky!
EDITOR 2: Don’t be stupid!
EDITOR 3: Don’t be silly!
(They brawl at each other and part).
Olayiwola.O.Metamofosis
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