Scarfolk Council was no stranger to invading the privacy of ordinary families. Back in December we introduced you to the council Christmas Boy (see HERE) who strictly monitored the contentment of families during the festive season. We've since received letters asking how the council kept households in check during the rest of the year.
In 1973 the council engineered a genetically modified creature called Roy. He was the result of cross-breeding barn owls with surplus human infants raised by prying, judgemental, lower-middle-class parents. Roy was cloned and delivered to every family in Scarfolk. His job was to oversee domestic affairs, and, if any family member deviated from officially sanctioned activity, Roy was to berate them by tutting and shaking his head.
Unfortunately, there had been a clinical oversight. Volatile poltergeist DNA had accidentally contaminated Roy's genes when a careless scientist left open a lab window which looked out onto a supernatural-energy processing plant. Instead of the envisioned tutting and head-shaking, Roy flew into violent rages, triggering major telekinetic events. There were reports of Roys decimating entire families and, in one case, allegedly annihilating an entire housing estate.
The council was under pressure to recall the defective owls, but because there had been a sudden drop in the numbers of families claiming benefits, it announced instead that Roy was a resounding success and millions more of the human-owl hybrid were commissioned by the police and social services.
Scarfolk is a town in North West England that did not progress beyond 1979. Instead, the entire decade of the 1970s loops ad infinitum. Here in Scarfolk, pagan rituals blend seamlessly with science; hauntology is a compulsory subject at school, and everyone must be in bed by 8pm because they are perpetually running a slight fever. "Visit Scarfolk today. Our number one priority is keeping rabies at bay." For more information please reread.
I remember Roy. My sister and I used to play checkers in the park, under his watchful, judgmental gaze.
ReplyDeleteOurs disappeared mysteriously one Christmas eve. Dad never did explain how we could afford a proper turkey for Christmas dinner that year but it was the best damn turkey we ever had.
ReplyDeleteOur Roy had feminist tendencies which surprisingly harmonised the marriage of my cross dressing father and stepmother. In fact he persuaded Dad to leave the priesthood.
ReplyDeleteYou had to be careful around old Roy. He got a bit twitchy when the local panda car or fire brigade sirens went by,and once he bit my uncle Tristan's nose right off!
ReplyDeleteOur Roy was very officious and stern but he'd lighten up temporarily if you gave him some buttered bread. It had to be sliced in s triangular fashion though or he'd submit a report and before you knew it a brother or sister disappeared.
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