Flight SH123 to Corfu

This story is written by David, please send comments and appreciation to voondave@yahoo.co.uk

Danny Dawson, an eighteen-year-old school leaver with no job or training to go to upon his leaving education, arrived at his house having walked home from school for the final time. Danny was very happy. School was out – for good.

Now, Danny intended to follow the example of his free-riding, lazy-bones father, and embark upon a lifetime of uninterrupted leisure and pleasure – at the tax payers' expense.

Immediately upon Danny entering his house, there was an eruption of loud, fierce-sounding barking and, in its customary expressions of enthusiastic welcome, Buster, the family's German Shepherd dog, stood up on its hind legs and began licking Danny's proffered face adoringly. Danny returned the dog's affection, fondly scratching behind Buster's ears. "Down, Buster! Down!" yelled Danny delightedly.

Upon entering the living-room and looking at the TV, Danny was irritated to see that his favourite soap was being delayed for a few minutes, by a Party political broadcast by the Authoritarian Female Party.

Prime Minister Caroline Flint was in full flow. Speaking with her familiar ring of authority, she was assuring the British electorate that the A.F.P.'s manifesto pledges – in particular, those pledges with regard to "Sorting out" the country's male unemployed – were being given priority, fast-tracked, and implemented without delay.

Danny, thinking that none of this mega-boring political stuff concerned him in the least, paid only scant attention to what was being said by the Prime Minister.

"... And, Letters of Notification are being sent out ... put a stop, once and for all, to the shameless, workshy malingerers ... clamping down, no more idle days ... launching the Work Motivation Programme ... from now on, claimants will be assigned to placements ..." the Prime Minister was announcing ominously.

Danny noticed that his dad – normally of a very cheerful disposition, despite his being on Incapacity Benefit for the last fifteen years with 'depression' – had in his hand a letter from the local Job Centre.

Danny's dad was glowering at the TV like a bull glaring at a waving red rag, as he tried to come to terms with the awful enormity of this hideous new reality, as was outlined in his letter. And, as was being so disturbingly described, by Prime Minister Caroline Flint, leader of the Authoritarian Female Party.

Pointing an accusatory finger at the TV, Danny's dad replied morosely, "It's that ruddy bunch of bitches, isn't it – the ruddy A.F.P. We've got enough authoritarian females in our lives as it is, our Danny, with your mother and your two sisters!"

"What's the letter from the Job Centre about, Dad?" asked Danny, still unconcerned, with political matters – still not getting it, that big changes were coming. Changes, that would affect him too.

"From now on, it makes no odds that I'm depressed. They say I'm not physically disabled, and so from now on I've got to earn my Incapacity Benefits payments. And, if I don't turn up to my placement, or if I don't do the duties that I'm assigned to satisfactorily, my welfare benefits payments will be stopped, with immediate effect."

"You've got a Letter of Notification from the Job Centre too, our Danny," sniped Danny's twenty-one-year-old sister, Elaine, and with a malicious gleam in her eye, as she twirled a tendril of her dirty-blonde hair around her index finger.

Danny knew from experience that, under the protection of their big sister Melanie, Elaine was trying to provoke him into a rash reaction. Which would inevitably result in Melanie pinioning Danny's arms behind his back, and letting Elaine bring him to heel (their favourite term, with regard to administering summary chastisement to their pesky younger brother), by giving Danny what was colloquially known as 'a good slap'.

Not that Elaine wasn't more than capable of punching above her weight in a fair fight, when it came to laying down the law with her disrespectful younger brother. With her hurtful words and her painful slaps, she was more than his match, and could reduce Danny to tears of humiliation.

It was just that Elaine revelled in having Danny rendered helpless; totally unable to defend himself from her. So that, unhindered, and with Melanie's active encouragement, and able to take her own, sweet time, she could "Teach him a lesson."

Elaine could then, with her cruel, scornful tongue and her vicious, punishing hands, properly and efficiently give Danny 'a good slap'. Slap, after stinging slap.

But, before Danny could foolishly respond to Elaine's snide, goading remark, his other sister – and the eldest of the three siblings, twenty-three-year-old, dark-haired, and heavily pregnant, Melanie – only too pleased to be the bearer of Danny's bad tidings, gleefully handed over to Danny his Letter of Notification from the local Job Centre.

"You thought you were going to have a lifetime of sheer idleness at the taxpayers' expense – just like Dad – didn't you, our Danny?" sneered Melanie. "Well, think again – dipstick! Read that letter. Read it, and weep!" gloated Melanie.

Melanie: who had, herself, on purpose and purposefully, got pregnant on a one-night-stand so as to be able to claim a rent-free council house when her baby arrived. This being the long established tactic of women of her ilk for maintaining a work-free, all-expenses-paid lifestyle. More importantly: a Single, lifestyle. Melanie didn't want a husband – who needed a man, doing nothing but squandering all the house-keeping money on beer and betting? Oh no. Melanie wanted to be the one holding the purse strings. The only one. And, when she wanted the ... attentions, of a man ... well, she was attractive enough not to have any problems in that department. Melanie could go 'on the pull', and have 'a good shag' anytime – as the crude colloquial sayings went.

Danny, at seeing that his letter from the Job Centre had been opened, yelled peevishly, "Bitch! You've opened my mail! Dad, our Melanie's opened my mail! She's been reading my letter! The nosy fat cow, she's—"

In an instant; her state of advanced pregnancy apparently of little impediment to her agility, Melanie had firm hold of Danny's right ear. Melanie effortlessly hauled the now cringing Danny from his chair, lifting him until he was standing on the very tips of his toes; her fingernails digging into his tender flesh painfully.

"Shut it, cretin!" snarled Danny's big sister menacingly. "Don't you dare speak to me like that, you little whippersnapper – unless you want a ruddy good slap!"

"Steady on, our Mel! You've got a bun in the oven! You shouldn't be exerting yourself like this!" advised Danny facetiously, in trying to save face.

"Go on, our Mel!" encouraged Elaine. "Give the cheeky little sod a ruddy good slap. I would, and no mistake! I'd teach the little pipsqueak a lesson. Go on, our Mel – make him cry!" urged Elaine maliciously. "He ruddy well deserves it!"

This sort of thing was an all-too-familiar scene, in the Dawson household – and in most households, come to that, in those rough and tough suburbs of Manchester. Anti-social behaviour, a way of life.

Elaine: who had been talking, lately, of emulating the grasping example of her free-loading older sister, and getting in the 'family way'. So that she also could hop aboard the welfare benefits gravy train. So that she also could apply for a rent-free council house when her baby arrived – plus all of the many other associated welfare benefits attendant to that particularly lucrative claim. The welfare benefits gravy train was waiting for Elaine at Platform 1, and she was going to get herself a First-Class ticket for the ride.

Elaine's eyes gleamed in gratification, as she saw a tear leak from Danny's left eye as a result of Melanie's painful and humiliating chastisement of him – especially humiliating to Danny, as it was being done right in front of Elaine.

As she watched this splendid entertainment, Elaine had her right leg crossed over her left knee, and she was causing her right flip flop to repeatedly slap-slap-slap against the bottom of her bare heel. Elaine was doing her ... 'thing'. This attracted Danny's eye – as it always did. He couldn't help himself: whatever else he thought of Elaine, Danny thought she was a champion flip flop dangler and manipulator. The way Elaine could ... oh, he couldn't put it into words. And, despite himself, he had to admit that she had great feet, too ... feet, that he secretly yearned to worship. Danny knew that Elaine must never make that discovery. If she did ...

"Ha ha ha ha!" laughed Mum from the kitchen, who had been listening to and enjoying these boisterous exchanges and, who always loved it when the 'Sisterhood' came down on Danny like a ton of falling female footwear. The women wore the pants in this house – and there were no two ways about that.

To his son, Dad said, "Danny, show more respect to your sisters – you'll be a lot better off in the long-run, you'll see. Now, sit down and read your letter from the Job Centre – it's important – before we all sit down to our tea."

"Okay, Dad," said Danny, still rubbing his sore ear as he sat down – and defiantly and impudently sticking his tongue out at Melanie ... for which, quick as a flash, Elaine reached across with her right flip flop and slapped Danny in the crotch.

Danny just never seemed to learn ... Anyone would think that he actually enjoyed being chastised by his two sisters. That he actually enjoyed, being put in his place.

as you have no job or training to go to immediately upon your leaving education, your local Job Centre has, therefore, under the government's new Work Motivation Programme, assigned you to a placement.

You will remain in your allocated placement (or placements, as might be directed, at the discretion of your local Job Centre), until such a time as you remove yourself from the register of unemployed, by finding gainful employment.

2 – Fail to report to your placement without a covering note; either from your doctor, or a placement supervisor. Or fail to phone in, giving at least 2 hours notice, reporting that you are going to be absent.

3 – Fail to perform the duties of your assigned placement to the satisfaction of your supervisors ... your Unemployment Benefit payments will be stopped – with immediate effect.

Always bring your passport with you. Our records show that you have a currently valid passport, which will be updated for you should that become necessary: in the event that you have still not removed yourself from the register of unemployed, by finding gainful employment, at the date of your passport's expiration.

At 06:00 on the Monday following your leaving education, you will report to the 'Sunshine Holidays' Information Desk, at Manchester Airport – Terminal 2 Departures. You will be met by a representative of Sunshine Holidays, who will take charge of you, and conduct you to your placement.

Please note: Placements are a strategic initiative of the Authoritarian Female Party government. Under the Work Motivation Programme, placements are intended as corrective measures, specifically designed to motivate welfare benefits claimants into gainful employment.

Danny Dawson, eighteen-year-old school leaver with no job or training to go to upon his leaving education, and second-generation (would-be) 'career claimant', upon finishing reading his Letter of Notification from his local Job Centre, looked up – his face bleak; almost chalk-white from shock – and said, "An ... an 'Air Purification Technician? What the ...? Aw, bollocks! Ruddy bollocks!!"

Elaine and Melanie, and Danny's mum, who had come in from the kitchen – ostensibly, to announce that tea was nearly ready, but, really, to watch her son's reaction to his Letter of Notification – started laughing, and laughing.

Then Danny, upon his suddenly realising that he would actually have to get out of bed at 5 a.m. on Monday morning, to report to his ruddy so-called placement, looked at the TV again.

Danny looked at Caroline Flint, Prime Minister and leader of the Authoritarian Female Party. And, Danny listened to her, taking more notice of her words now than he had ever taken before, until she concluded the A.F.P.'s Party political broadcast.

And then, at last, Danny understood that Caroline Flint was a driven woman: a woman on a mission. And that she was a woman to be reckoned with. She was a woman to respect – a woman to fear. Now, at last, Danny began to understand this.

Danny Dawson, at receiving "Something in the post," and so suddenly finding himself saddled with a so-called ruddy 'placement', instead of embarking upon a lifetime of leisure and pleasure at the taxpayers' expense, disgustedly echoed the sentiments of his equally disgusted dad.

Well, they couldn't help it. It was the funniest thing that had happened in the Dawson household for ages! The sight of Dad's and Danny's glum, crestfallen, disbelieving faces – it was too much! Even Buster joined in the fun with his barking.

And Danny was so knocked out of kilter by his Letter of Notification, to the extent that he quite forgot about the special ones – his white-socked, absentmindedly shoe-playing female classmates. The ones who had, today, unwittingly exercised their enthralling powers over him, with their exciting, captivating, under-the-seat displays.

Quite forgot, about replaying in his mind the exciting, under-the-seat scenes of the day – his 'sightings' – as he duly paid his respects, and made his solemn, sacred 'sacrifice' to his Goddesses.