“Ah, Monsieur Baffins! Here you are!”
“Who are you? Are you that guy who glued my teeth together?”
“No Mr Baffins, don’t be ridiculous. Won’t you come and sit and have a drink with me?”
“Ok… how do you know my name?”
“I guessed.”
“You guessed my name was Mr Baffins?”
“It’s a common name Mr Baffins.”
“It’s not. I’ve never met anybody else who goes by the name Mr Baffins.”
“You’re obviously not hanging out in the right circles… Mr Baffins.”
“What circles are you hanging around?”
“Baffins circles Mr Baffins. Baffins circles.”
“Ok, move on. Why am I here?”
“I’ve summoned you Mr Baffins to pay witness to my greatest achievement yet, a creation so inhumanly brilliant that it shall surely cement my reputation as the finest scientific mind of this generation.”
“Right… and who are you?”
“My name is not important Mr Baffins. However, might I say, it’s… somewhat familiar?” [Chuckles]
“… your name is Mr Baffins as well isn’t it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You heavily implied that your name is Mr Baffins. What the hell kind of place is this where we’re all called Mr Baffins?”
“I never said my name was Mr Baffins.”
“Is your name Mr Baffins?”
“Ok, yes. My name is Mr Baffins.”
“For fuck’s sake. Why am I always being summoned to conferences of Baffins?”
“Please Monsieur Baffins, allow me to explain my invention to you.”
“Fine, go on.”
“This device Mr Baffins, this… thing that I’ve been working on, is an accessory so unique that even I was surprised to stumble upon it. Allow me to show you.”
“Ok, but hurry up, I’ve got somewhere else to be.”
“Tell me, do you know where your socks are Mr Baffins?”
“… What?”
“Your socks Mr Baffins. Where are your socks?”
“They’re on my feet. Where do you keep your socks?”
“Oh Mr Baffins, you do indulge me with your priceless antiques.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Likewise, I am unaware of my current sock location, or at least I was. Until now. For I, Mr Baffins, have developed this iPhone application that shall always keep me in touch with my socks.”
“Keep you in touch with your socks?”
“Where are my socks Mr Baffins? Where are my socks? No, wait, don’t tell me, allow me to demonstrate, for when I turn this application on, then we shall ALL know where my socks are.”
“You mean tho-”
“No no no Mr Baffins, let it get to work.”
“But they’re on your f-”
“They’re on my feet Mr Baffins. They’re on my feet. You see, this device that I have crafted is pointing directly downwards, towards my foot area. I can therefore deduce that my socks are located somewhere within a 5 mile radius of wherever this is pointing.”
“But they’re on your feet.”
“Or within a five mile radius of my feet.”
“Or on your feet.”
“Or…?”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Monsieur Baffins, we have all the time in the world. Now please, if you’ll meet me in my socks.”
“Meet you in your socks? MEET YOU IN YOUR SOCKS? THIS ISN’T MAKING ANY SENSE!”
“Or is it all just beginning to make sense now Mr Baffins? You grew up around socks didn’t you?”
“I’ve always worn socks, if that’s what you mean.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“BECAUSE MY FEET WERE COLD!”
“Or was it a preparation? A series of trials and tribulations ascribed by your father in order to prepare you for your destiny.”
“I doubt it, he died when I was 3.”
“But didn’t he leave you an abnormally large pile of socks in his will?”
“He left me 10 pairs. It’s hardly abnormal.”
“TEN PAIRS MR BAFFINS! TEN PAIRS! Why that’s more than one for every day of the week, that’s nearly a 50% surplus of socks! Did you never think Mr Baffins, never question why there were so many!”
“I was three years old and my father had just died. My first thought wasn’t exactly ‘Well this certainly seems like sock overkill…’”
“And yet it was Mr Baffins! And yet it was!”
“You’re beginning to assume the voice of Hercule Poirot, you realise that don’t you?”
“Oui Monsieur Baffins! And who is Hercule Poirot, if not your own father!”
“What?”
“Ok, in retrospect, that made no sense. The point I was trying to get across was that I was your own father.”
“What?!”
“Does it not make sense now? The fact that we both share the Baffins family name? The fact that we’ve both carved the Baffins family crest into our chests with a compass! Do you not see the facts my son!”
“We’ve both what? I never carved anything into myself, let alone the Baffins family crest. It’s a rubbish crest. It’s just a picture of a question mark and some unpronouncable Latin phrase.”
“Ah, you mean ‘Emprecgio consorta lombaro Baffins‘” [Chuckles]
“Yeah, what does that mean?”
“It means ‘What the hell kind of name is Baffins?’. Unfortunate, but true.”
“But you can’t be my father! We buried him 30 years ago!”
“Did you? Or did you bury a pair of sunglasses?”
“I think we’d have noticed to be honest.”
“Then you’re obviously not as observant as I’d assumed. MEET ME IN MY SOCKS MY SON! FOR ALL SHALL BE EXPLAINED! NOW, I MUST BID YOU GOODBYE! BUT I SHALL SEE YOU SHORTLY WITHIN MY COTTON-BASED FOOT CONTAINERS! TO THE SOCK KINGDOM!”
“…”
“…”
“You’ve just put the socks on your head and closed your eyes.”
“HOW CAN YOU SEE ME? You failed to notice the sunglasses, but your retinas piece through the mesh between here and the sock kingdom! How can this happen?”
“Tell me, what does the sock kingdom look like?”
“It’s dark, we have no sun within the sock kingdom! There is no light since the torches burned out!”
“Ok, and what does it feel like?”
“It’s a magical sensation almost like cotton being pressed against your forehead.”
“That’s it, I’m leaving.”
“No my son! Don’t leave me here!”
“I’m not your son am I?”
“Alright, no, you’re not.”
“Can I go now?”
“Ok.”
