Many decades ago, in the era now called the Bronze Age (which was at that point called the “post-modern era”) there was a man, who had three daughters. His eldest daughter, Clarice was the smartest girl in all their village and was also very beautiful. The two younger girls were twins named Betty and Bonnie and they were not as smart or pretty as their older sister, were both very jealous of Clarice and wanted to ruin her reputation in the village.

Mr. Carmine, for that was the name of the girls’ father, was not aware of the twins’ animosity for their older sibling. As far as he knew, his family was a happy one. And so one day, when he was on his way to work and the twins asked to come with him, he saw no reason why he should not do so.

Mr. Carmine had a very important job in his village. It was his responsibility to go from home to home and ensure that everyone had the regulation amount of floorboards. In these days man had not yet found a means to develop wood on their own, so it was such a rarity that the government made sure it was all being used well. Having too many floorboards was a crime punishable by death or taxation, depending on which party was in office at the time.

So Betty and Bonnie went with their father on his route. When the reached the first house Mr. Carmine told them to wait with the homeowner while he did his job. As it turned out, this home was owned by a little old lady named Mrs. Tuberculosis and she had pictures of airplanes on her walls (Of course, when I say pictures, I mean paintings, as photographs had not yet been invented in the Bronze Age).

Mrs. Tuberculosis was delighted to see the little girls and she offered them candy. “Such good little girls,” she said. “Won’t you just be so wonderful when you grow up to be as big like your sister, aren’t you?”

“Actually,” said Betty, “we’re kinda hoping that we won’t turn out like her.”

The old lady was taken by surprise. “Oh, why is that? She seems lovely.”

“Sure,” said Bonnie, “she seems lovely, but she’s really quite a bad person.”

The old lady gasped.

“It’s true,” said Betty. “I once saw her stab a dog with a knitting needle and then laugh.”

“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “And I once saw her urinate on a baby, then blame the baby for the smell!”

It was at this point that Mr. Carmine came back and told them that everything was okay. He ushered the girl off to their next home, leaving old Mrs. Tuberculosis to gossip with her older friends.

Betty and Bonnie were just thrilled at what they were accomplishing. They giggled to each other as they approached the next home.

Here Tommy Grover answered the door and Mr. Carmine said, “Well hello Tommy. Are your parents home?”

“No, Mr. Carmine. They told me to let you in.”

And so Mr. Carmine went about his work while the girls talked to Tommy. Tommy had a big crush on Clarice, so he was eager to ask how she was.

“She’s not good,” said Betty.

“She’s not?”

“No,” said Bonnie. “She’s sick.”

“Sick? Oh no!”

“Yeah, it’s a shame,” Betty went on. “She’s itching like crazy and she has a rash.”

“And it burns when she pees,” added Bonnie.

“My Heavens!” cried Tommy. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Oh it’s just all her sex diseases,” said Betty.

“She gets like this every year,” said Bonnie.

And so Tommy was extremely weirded out and was completely silent as the girls added to their sister’s fictional condition saying things about her spending nights with the diseased homeless men in the poor part of town, her dalliances with barnyard animals and her willingness to lay down with members of the armies of enemy nations. Finally Mr. Carmine was done and the girls again giggled all the way to the next house.

This house, an ancient mansion on a hill, was owned by the village’s Creepiest Resident (He had held this title for three years. It was awarded by the mayor himself), Mr. Kredick.

As he climbed the hill, Mr. Carmine cursed the size of the house, because he knew that there would be plenty of floorboards to count. Mr. Carmine’s job was important, he knew, but he didn’t like it. He hadn’t liked it since his partner got killed by that horrible crimeboss Mortez. He’d kill Mortez for that someday, Mr. Carmine swore.

The sun was beginning to set as they knocked on Mr. Kredick’s door. Kredick, a pale skinny old man with wispy long white hair and greyish eyes, answered their knock and let them in. Mr. Carmine was about to set about his work when: Mr. Kredick Attack! It turned out that he was a vampire! He knocked Mr. Carmine to the floor with a might sweep of his arm and then began to scratch at the girls.

Mr. Carmine knew he had to think quick to save his girls, so he grabbed the nearest thing at hand, a round piece of plastic (the lid to a tub of butter, to be exact) and threw it at the undead fiend. Mr. Kredick saw what Carmine had done and easily caught the flying disc.

“Hey,” Kredick exclaimed. “That was pretty fun.” And he tossed it back to Mr. Carmine.

“You’re right!” said Mr. Carmine and he then tossed it back. The two of them, and the girls (who were now permanently scarred from Kredick’s claws) all enjoyed their new toy. Mr. Carmine and Mr. Kredick decided to go into business together selling the device, which Mr. Kredick decided to name after his long lost love, Eleanor Frisbee.

And that’s how the Frisbee was invented. The man and the vampire both became very rich and eventually Mr. Kredick killed Mortez and took over the town’s crime syndicate.

Patrick D Ryall, the D is for Parade
Originally posted on Contains2 Sunday 11 September 2005