In this morning's mail, Wilson received a reply from the Editor of the New Scientist. It was a very nice letter, but not altogether what W had wanted to hear:
Dear Mr Vermilingua
Thank you very much for the two samples of 'new elements' which you sent to this office. We have had them chemically analysed, and can now inform you of the results of those analyses:
SAMPLE 1 [metallic]:
This IS an element, but sadly not a new one. We believe it to be Aluminium (chemical symbol Al) and, judging from the colouration and printing, think it may originally have been a chocolate wrapper. Probably a soft-centre.
SAMPLE 2 [fibrous]:
This proved to be mostly organic in composition (dead skin cells and hair/fur) and is colloquially known as a "Dust Bunny". Although not a new element (or indeed an element at all) colleagues in the office have suggested you might like to name it "Dustbunnyite" — chemical symbol Db.
Thank you for contacting us in this matter and we are very sorry to have to give you this disappointing news. However, we hope you will continue in your researches, and wish you the best of luck.
Illegible
Managing Editor
PS We should like to point out that ALL the Row Seven Elements — where the undiscovered elements lie — are highly radioactive and poisonous; please take care!
There was great excitement earlier today when Wilson received a call from a local trader asking about his Product Placement Service.
Wilson put on his best businesslike voice (maximum gravitas and dependability with a soupçon of world-weariness — though a tiny bit squeaky, due to his excitement) and negotiated a very good price. But as the conversation proceeded, his face began to fall.
After the call ended we all gathered round to see what had occurred.
Wilson told us that, typically, his first Product Placement client was a local butcher with a shop at the top of the High Street. He wanted to commission Wilson to go into the shop and buy some meat and sausages in return for a fat fee, and everything W 'bought' being given to him for free.
This sounded like a good deal to me, but I knew what Wilson was going to say, and I was right:
'It was a generous offer, New Dad, but as a strict vegetarian,' he sighed sadly, 'my moral compass would not allow me to accept this commission.'
Today Wilson is trying a new approach to marketing his Product Placement services.
He's sitting in the dining room pretending to eat a bowl of cereal, while discussing its merits loudly with me.
'So, New Dad, have you tried this Stuff*?'
Then I have to say, 'No Wilson, I haven't tried it. Is it good?'
'Good? It's amazing! Not only is it toothsome and nourishing, with loads of essential vitamins and stuff, it's also chock-full of fibre and flavour! It contains that well-known medical ingredient, Boswellox, and kids love it! You really should try some — it's available in all good stores that sell this kind of ... stuff!'
I should explain to W the difference between Placement and Endorsement some time...
*Your Product Name could go here!
Wilson is in the kitchen, apparently talking to himself. In a posh voice.
'Of course, toothpaste is useful not just for cleaning teeth, but in all sorts of household jobs — for example, cleaning your tv or computer screen!'
With this, he rubbed toothpaste all over his (ie my) laptop screen.
'Oh! Oh my!' he exclaimed, surveying the mess he had made. 'I expect that will wash off and the screen will be better than new!'
'What are you doing with my laptop?' I asked.
'Oh! I didn't hear you come in, New Dad — I'm just amping-up my Product Placement campaign, so that manufacturers send me money to display their stuff on the Blog. I seem to have made a bit of a mess here...'
As I went downstairs to breakfast this morning I noticed Wilson emerging from the bathroom.
Due to his hatred of washing and water in general, this room is pretty much Terra Incognita to him, so I asked him what was up.
'Oh, nothing,' he replied shiftily, but then he produced a family-sized pack of toothpaste from behind his back, and asked me, 'Have you tried this, New Dad? It's jolly good!'
I replied that yes, I had tried it — in fact I use it every day — but I was puzzled what he was doing with it, since anteaters are famous for having no teeth.
'Oh, I was just going to... clean... something with it!' he said brightly. 'It's very good for cleaning and it tastes...' he consulted the label and continued, 'Minty! Also, Fresh!'
I had no idea what was going on, until I noticed the little 'P' symbol he'd stood on the landing floor...
Wilson's despair was short-lived when he remembered that he'd ordered his white lab coat using my VISA card so he would not, after all, be out of pocket — I would!
Glancing at the tv, he asked me, 'New Dad, what's that little "P" in the corner of the screen for? I've never noticed it before — is it a tribute to Bob Holness?'
I explained to him how sometimes tv programmes will include things in their sets just to make them look lifelike, but sometimes manufacturers will PAY the show to include one of their products.
I went on to say that it had only become legal in the UK quite recently and was still a bit controversial, but I saw that he had drifted away into a world of his own, lost in his thoughts...
___________
Wilson barely knows who David Bowie is, but for me he's been a constant throughout my adult life. A little bit of me has died today.
Wilson returned to the living room and addressed his research team.
'Having to wash my paws is not the worst part. I shall have to cancel this project on grounds of safety, for it is too dangerous to continue!'
He surveyed the room before adding, 'I cannot put you, my loyal team, at risk from my ground-breaking research, and you will not be able to share in my Nobel Prize... for there will BE no Nobel Prize!'
Many of the toys were sniffing, some openly crying, but Wilson pressed on.
'But even THAT is not the worst of it: I'd just ordered a white lab coat to make me look more science-y... and the eBay retailer does not accept returns!'
