Mr Sir Orange, the celebrated Minister of Art and Fisheries, was holding his usual morning audience at his splendid residence The Orangery when his Secretary hastily entered shouting unceremoniously:
“Ebola has come!”
“What a nice name for a cat,” reflected Mr Sir Orange, “do let her in.”
“Ebola is not a cat, your Excellency,” retorted the Secretary, “Ebola is a disease.”
“You know very well Mr Secretary,” admonished Mr Sir Orange sternly, “that in these offices we do not tolerate any kind of discrimination; be it on racial, gender, religious or tribal grounds. Indeed I have heard this lovely name before and am keen to see its bearer who surely should be equally lovely. If not splendid.” he added. “So get on with it!”
“Ebola is a DEADLY disease,” retorted the secretary, “it is a virus for which there is no cure and is rampant in one of our neighbouring countries.”
“DEADLY” you say,” repeated, Mr Sir Orange slowly. “Virus? Hm. Don’t you know we are all born to die? And in any case, this is not the only virus for which there is no cure, is it not? Fabiola did you say? How confusing to give a virus the name of a former queen.”
The Secretary shrugged his shoulders. “This cat has learned the tricks of misinformation quite fast,” he thought to himself. “If he continues like this he might make it to the highest office.”
“When did you say this Fabiola was coming,” the Secretary heard Mr Sir Orange say as he was about to leave, “I hear she has a profound liking for cats! And as far as Ebola goes, keep the doors closed will you?”
“Ebola has come!”
“What a nice name for a cat,” reflected Mr Sir Orange, “do let her in.”
“Ebola is not a cat, your Excellency,” retorted the Secretary, “Ebola is a disease.”
“You know very well Mr Secretary,” admonished Mr Sir Orange sternly, “that in these offices we do not tolerate any kind of discrimination; be it on racial, gender, religious or tribal grounds. Indeed I have heard this lovely name before and am keen to see its bearer who surely should be equally lovely. If not splendid.” he added. “So get on with it!”
“Ebola is a DEADLY disease,” retorted the secretary, “it is a virus for which there is no cure and is rampant in one of our neighbouring countries.”
“DEADLY” you say,” repeated, Mr Sir Orange slowly. “Virus? Hm. Don’t you know we are all born to die? And in any case, this is not the only virus for which there is no cure, is it not? Fabiola did you say? How confusing to give a virus the name of a former queen.”
The Secretary shrugged his shoulders. “This cat has learned the tricks of misinformation quite fast,” he thought to himself. “If he continues like this he might make it to the highest office.”
“When did you say this Fabiola was coming,” the Secretary heard Mr Sir Orange say as he was about to leave, “I hear she has a profound liking for cats! And as far as Ebola goes, keep the doors closed will you?”
