It was a perfect summer’s day at Mt.

Buller, and on this

perfect summer’s day, Mr. Demon was looking even more
superb than usual.

He didn’t have a hair out of place.

His smile was in a permanent state of brightness and his

mind was full of happy thoughts.
Mr. Demon’s house was built by one of the worst interior
decorators in the land of Sweet, although by most technical
definitions, it was perfect too.

Not a curtain or frilly bow or daisy out of place.

I suppose you’re wondering why everything at Mt. Buller
was looking so perfect? Well, I shall tell you.

It was Mr. Demon’s 31st birthday, and he was once again

forced to interact with the other people in the league.

He heard a knock at the door.

“Shit, here we go”, said Mr. Demon.

“How perfectly kind of you”, muttered Mr. Demon as the
guests arrived.

Among the guests was Mr. Bear, Mr. Furie, Mr. Hawk, Mr.
Swamprat and Little Miss Wonder (who was actually not
invited but turned up anyway).

“Please come in! We can open the presents later on. First
we should have some fun!”.
While most people were OK with this idea, Mr. Bear decid-
ed to be a dick about it.

“Why SHOULDN’T we do presents first? I hope you don’t

let us get bored today Mr. Demon, as I’m too important to
be bored. I have very little time for shenanigans”.

The rest of the party seemed to stop in silence.

Mr. Demon had dealt with this type before, so he just
smiled happily and put on his original copy of
Hotel California for the guests to enjoy.

Mr. Demon had perfect manners, unlike rude Mr. Bear.

“Oh my golly gosh no, Mr. Bear – we won’t be bored
today! Here’s some of Don Henley’s finest work pre-Boys
Of Summer! Do you care to dance?”.
Everybody immediately started to dance, including one
other random gatecrasher who hadn’t been part of the
book until now.

Although he danced, Mr. Bear still couldn’t manage to

muster a smile.
After a particularly heavy session of grinding and
head-banging, Mr. Furie (being his usual disorganised
chaotic self) tripped over his own shoelaces and destroyed
some of Mt. Buller’s finest china plates.

Do you think this upset Mr. Demon?

Not at all.

Mr. Demon had dealt with this type of shithousery for 31

seasons in the land of Sweet, so he simply smiled happily
and left the room.
He returned shortly afterwards with some new plates,
which he realised he should have handed out from the start
given the company he was keeping.

They were made of cardboard.

Then he brought in a cake baked by his dear friend Proper
Gander.

It was HUGE and it looked simply WONDERFUL.

And…
Mr. Swamprat thought it tasted delicious.

He pretended he was drunk, stumbled over and swallowed

the whole cake in three seconds flat!

There wasn’t one crumb or one flake of icing left for

anybody else.

Do you think this bothered Mr. Demon?

Not in the least! He had dealt with this sort of greed and
self-interest before, and he had already prepared a plate
of cakes to share with the other guests.

There was plenty for everybody – even Mr. Demon himself!

But because he wasn’t greedy, he only ate one.

One cake was just perfect for him!

After the guests had finished eating, he went to open his
presents.

He said as many ‘thank yous’ as there were presents.

Well, not quite.

“What about thanking me for MY PRESENT?” shouted Mr.

Hawk.

Mr. Hawk’s gift to Mr. Demon was so small that he hadn’t

managed to see it.

Mr. Demon opened the tiny parcel wrapped in newspaper.

“Oh Mr. Hawk”, said Mr. Demon “you’ve given me lump
of dried poo”.

“How kind of you – it’s delightful”, he continued.

“If I’d known he’d like it so much, I’d have only given him
half a lump”, muttered Mr. Hawk.
“That’s IT – I’VE HAD ENOUGH” cried Mr. Bear suddenly.

“I’m fed up with you Mr. Demon, and do you know

why? I’ll tell you why. I’ve discovered that there is a most
enormous, unbearable, exasperating fault with you Mr.
Demon”

“Would you be so kind as to tell me what that would be?”

replied Mr. Demon, smiling politely.

“Don’t you understand?” cried Mr. Bear, “your fault is that

you HAVE NO FAULT”.
So after this outburst all the guests left, leaving Mr. Demon
to clean up (which he did while whistling a tune to himself).

“Ahhhh”, said Mr. Demon. “Time to be insular again –

dealing with these other teams does my head in”.

So he sat down to submit his teamsheet before Midnight on

Thursday, before retiring to his team PM.

The moral? Introversion is bliss!