Alex Edmonton was, in essence, a multi-tool of a man. A shmoozer extraordinaire, dynamic, sharp and quick witted, with a charisma some might find offensive. He worked tirelessly and devotedly for the same company he had worked for since he embarked on his rollercoaster of a career, and he was good at it. Very good...the best. His career epitomised his whole being. He was a bore.
Edmonton was a corporate icon. A flaming beacon of bullshit, and an exemplary example of a savage piece of exuberant human ordnance (fuelled by lager and Jaegerbombs), that had a habit of igniting at full force in the company of impressionable peers, or unsuspecting clients. He was a quip-grenade with more material than a sari manufacturer. Pedlar of dreams, a man of half truths and unfortunately afflicted with cancer of the sentiment. Having said that, he was also a pioneer, a renegade, a maverick who shunned the rules and spurned bureaucracy. He got shit done. And that’s why Alex Edmonton was the shit.
Sarah Edmonton, Alex’s wife, was well aware that he was a multi-tool of a man and furthermore, in recognition of his unwavering devotion to his employer, and his consequent lack of devotion to her, she often referred to him as ‘the shit’. She wasn’t an unattractive woman but as balance so often dictates, her good looks were the ying to her temperament’s yang. Alex’s ridiculous personality made her beyond miserable, a demeanour which culminated in a barrage of crossed words whenever they were in each others’ company. And that’s the reason they avoided each other like the plague.
A neighbour once remarked that the Edmontons reminded them of chocolate on sushi, and Sarah Edmonton certainly shared this twisted sentiment. On breezy summer afternoons she would wistfully stare into middle distance, imagining how life could have been if only she had eloped with the young Greek waiter she met on that weekend away with the girls in Stockton on Tees. ‘Now, there was a real man’ she thought, a man with literally zero intention of talking about client conferences or the upcoming business trip to Rhyl. Furthermore, he smashed plates like they were going out of fashion and he looked a bit like that bloke from Dragon’s Den. But her big mistake in life was to marry a man more vacuous than her and her friends.
Had Cupid even an iota of foresight he would have set his arrows to ‘kill’ rather than ‘thrill’, in order to do them both a favour and put them out of their mutual misery. This would have saved them a lot of pain later on. As it was, it took some undercooked chicken to permanently put paid to them both. The Edmontons fell victim to Sarah’s signature homemade kievs and they subsequently found themselves winging their way, pretty sharpish, to the independent arbiter in the sky. An event that should in theory have put paid to their earthly interactions for good.
Sarah and Alex, however, weren’t so fortunate. Their entry to heaven had been smooth enough, yes there was a fairly laborious queue at the gates of the greatest theme park in the sky, but once inside everything seemed orderly and well organised. However, any hopes that either of them had of spending their lives in eternity apart from each other had been dashed; their glorious rebirth marred by the fact that there had been an administrative mix up in the ‘New Joiners’ department. Unfortunately, it was assumed that their life on earth together had been one of blissful marital union and therefore, they had been earmarked for coexistence in a one bedroom apartment. Furthermore, they had both been provided with employment on the same production line creating wings. Alex and Sarah therefore, began their new lives in close proximity and consequently in near despair, a situation that was set to continue in perpetuity.
