Napoleon’s Nightmare

Not many people know that gerbils are super-intelligent. And Amadeus was certainly no exception. He was only eleven when he invented the world’s first neutron powered Brazil nut de-sheller. At 17 he was elected Professor of Maths and Science by the gerbils’ most prestigious university. But his ambition, as well as his intellect, knew no bounds. He concluded that the only way he could progress from his limited stature in the world was to utilise the greater strength, height and muscular power of one of those ungainly humans. His careful analysis of this predicament led him to specify the kind of human who could most effectively be guided to help Amadeus attain his objectives. The subsequent report ran to 78 closely typed pages but its essence can be neatly summarised as follows –

IDEAL CANDIDATE FOR ADOPTION SHOULD BE -
Male, Very stupid, Fat, Short-sighted and Tall.

To say Herbert Longbottom fitted the bill was like saying that Gordon Brown is not very good looking!
Herbert ‘s low self-esteem was actually a vertical plummet. Each morning he had to face the same uninspiring reflection as he stood half-naked before his bathroom mirror. His waxy pale skin pouched in flabs over his pyjama trousers which themselves bulged grossly with the genetic evidence of his family name, Longbottom.
To say he was thick was deeply offensive to the most helpless moron you can imagine. In his early years he would peer miserably through greasy, thick NHS specs at his tormentors. When they got fed up yelling out his surname they would then imaginatively chant “Herbie The Pervie” over and over again. Only his great height prevented physical bullying.
He lived in a pit of deep depression. So when Professor Amadeus hopped up unto the vinegar stained table where Herbert sat in the local chippy and said ‘Good Evening Mr Longbottom’ he expected to hear loud guffaws from the usual bullies. When he got over the shock and listened carefully to the gerbil’s cunning plan he little knew that his life was going to alter dramatically for the better.
The first change in their son Mr and Mrs Longbottom noticed was when he asked them if they would fund a course of sword fighting. They were delighted, anything to get their stupid ungainly son out of the house. But to their amazement he started to bring prizes home. Soon he was gaining a huge reputation with the rapier and was beating the finest sword masters in the world.
Then, he seemed to have no sooner taken up chess than there he was on the Teli taking on and beating the grand master in Moscow. Next he took up Thai boxing and kick-fighting at which he again excelled. What a change in their son. The Longbottoms couldn’t believe it and to think he achieved all of this single-handed as for some peculiar reason his right hand was always tucked into his jacket. (We of course know that he was holding onto Professor Amadeus who was responsible for all these amazing success by whispering instructions to him.) His parents however thought his behaviour most odd especially when he started muttering to himself all the time and looking far far away into the distance.
What neither Professor Amadeus nor his parents knew was that Herbert really was not with them he was in a completely different world and had become a new person.
His sword fights were duels with deadly opponents to his soaring reputation in Paris.
When boxing or kick-fighting he was leading his old faithful up through the fortifications driving the terrified enemy before him.
At chess, there he was, mounted on his white charger on a hill high above the battleground directing his troops, exploiting his strategic brilliance.
After a while it became obvious to Professor Amadeus that something was seriously wrong with his host human. He consulted the gerbil’s most learned Psychologists but none could explain this weird behaviour. When Herbert started shouting orders out in French in his sleep and muttering about Auzterleist and Waterloo it was clear that he really needed skilled medical assessment then care and attention. There was nothing for it, the Longbottoms had to be consulted. After they got over the shock of seeing this small furry animal appear out of their sons shirt front, then amazement when he spoke clearly and fluently to them in English they gradually calmed down and started listening. At least this explained some aspects they had been worrying about and they agreed quickly with the Professor’s proposal to seek the finest help available from experts in mental health. After all they could afford it, Herbert’s unbelievable successes in the various sports he had mastered had made them all rich beyond their wildest dreams.
The professionals they met with agreed unanimously that Herbert needed to be very closely observed 24 hours a day in an appropriate specialist hospital before treatment could begin.
While Herbert was busy master-minding the retreat from Russia the Longbottoms drove him and the Professor to the clinic high above Geneva in the Swiss Alps. The matron gently but firmly guided Herbert up the polished wooden stairs along a corridor and into a bright sun-lit ward where patients in hospital robes wandered around some gibbering, some spaced out on medication. Herbert was led over to where a white coated man was leaning over a man in an armchair.
‘Herr Doktor this is our new patient.’
‘ Ach Zo. Good Morning Sir. What is your name?’
Herbert stood erect and in a clear voice replied proudly,
‘I am Napoleon.’
‘ No your not! I am!’
‘ No he’s not! I am!’
‘ You are not! I am!’
Herbert fainted.

Unfortunately he fell forward, flat on his front thereby snuffing out the incredible genius of Professor Amadeus.

Ian, Fernbank, 31 8 08 976 words