The Gods of Small Parts

It is not always easy to fully-recalibrate the electro-penguins of destiny for the prevailing weather conditions when wearing your bespoke cheese mittens. This, especially if your lovely assistant has not brought the callipers and the sealing wax, which is – admittedly – rather difficult to manage when all you are wearing is a heavily besequined stage costume that is rather on the skimpy side and a cape. It does tend to look somewhat incongruous when worn with the knee-length wellies that are essential wear whenever in the presence of an electro-penguin when it is undergoing extensive maintenance too.

However, none of this should detain us too long as it is now time to make sure that the sandwiches are prepared and the packets of cheese-flavoured snacks are placed upon the altar in a way that is deemed most pleasing to the Gods of Maintenance Engineering by the High Holy Spanner-Wielder himself. Then it is time for a reading of the nine lessons and carols from the Owner’s Manual, recounted in the original Owner’s Manual English. This is a rich version of the language that has done so much to add a depth and flavour – if little actual clarity or understanding – to this great language of ours. Then – finally – it is the time to offer up a prayer to the Gods of Small Parts in the way that provides the best of hope for the availability of the necessary spare parts that will be found to be wanted as soon as the electro-penguin is fully disassembled.

Then, finally, many hours later, when it is al over it will be time – once again – to sing The Song Of The Strange Unidentifiable Left-Over Part After Reassembly that neither you nor your lovely assistant can recall where it fits, what it is meant to do, or – even - ever having seen where it came from during the disassembly process.

Still, though, if all else fails you can always hit it with a hammer – that usually works.