No Strings Attached: Fame

He went to his room and opened the door. Everywhere he looked there were flowers. The smell made him choke and cough.

"Your mother and I thought you might like to enjoy the best of them by yourself," said Ernest's father, "We put the roses on that side, and the lilies by your bed. Do you like it that way, or would you prefer them some other way round?"

"No, this is fine," rasped Ernest, trying to breath. He shut the door and went to the window to let in some air. A crowd of people, clustered on the footpath, cheered when they saw him, and camera's flashed like Guy Falkes night. He waved back and drew the curtains.

"I'm not sure I like all this popularity," mumbled Ernest to himself.

That evening, the government sent some very important, slow-talking, ministers of the Crown. They arrived in a long, black car, and they all wore long, black suits, and they waited in the living-room until Ernest came down to see them. When he entered the room, they all stood up and straightened their ties.

"Mr. Ernest Q. Blogins with one 'g', the Prime Minister has sent us to ask you if you are willing to be an Ambassador for our country."

"What's an Ambassador?" asked Ernest.

The men laughed politely. They thought he was pretending not to know. It was a very good joke, they thought.

"We have already worked out an itinerary for you, if you are interested. Your first visit is to South Africa, and from there you will travel to the Middle East, then, next month ..."

"Me? Travel round the world?" said Ernest.

The men laughed politely again. They thought he was pretending not to understand. Ernest's humour was outstanding, they thought.

"We have scheduled for you to meet all the European heads of State at the World Summit next year, and then the year after that we have arranged for a tour of the Russian states, prior to the Hawaiian Olympics."

"I need time to think," said Ernest.

"How much time?" asked the men politely.