The Stonecutter and the Master
When the God of Characterization had handed down respectable human qualities, Kunai was out of the room on a sanitary break. Of all the skills he completely lacked, stonecutting was one he completely lacked the most. It wasn’t the poor lad’s fault, considering his eyes could simultaneously admire a sunset and praise a sunrise.
‘Kunai, you daft idiot,’ the Slave Master had told him in the kind of tone that could only be described in carved pictures. ‘Why’d you go about, cutting stone all crooked like that?’
‘Sey gave me se wrong ruler, yanni!’ said Kunai, presenting his master with a long piece of rubber band, ‘it is nearly ten fingers too short!’
Master Serq palmed his face.
‘You’re a fine lad, you are, and Ra be my witness, I like you a lot, but the Pharaoh won’t have it, hear?’
‘Please Masster, give me anoser chance,’ pleaded Kunai. ‘I know I have it in me to be a great sslave!’
The Slave Master scratched his receding hairline and gave the matter a good ponder. He had never seen a man more motivated to sell himself into slavery. On the other hand, from a modern business perspective, he’d much rather have fifty forced workers than a troublesome wannabe.
‘Tell you what,’ said Serq Neb-er-Tcher, fondling his beard. ‘I’ll transfer you over to the stone-pullers branch.’
Kunai’s face brightened. ‘Thank you, Masster, thank you! I’ll make you proud, yanni! I’ll pull sstone like my life depended on it!’
‘Good, good,’ said the Slave Master. ‘Because… as chance would have it, it does.’
To be continued...