For the past few weeks, there has been a strange smell in our kitchen. It has been there ever since we last had the plumbers in. I should add that our plumbers, Murdoch & Son, are a long-standing firm of many years standing. So it surprised me when the young Mr Murdoch denied any past involvement.
‘With respect,’ he said, crisply, ‘our current position may need clarification. We have, with respect, no knowledge of an earlier visit. And, even if we had, I was not in a position of responsibility for that particular plumbing quantum.’
Days passed, and the stench grew ever more dreadful. Luckily, I managed to find an invoice for their earlier work, so was able to convince them that they had an obligation to drop round. By the time Murdoch & Son put their heads around the door, the stench was overwhelming.‘Now do you see what I mean!?’ I exclaimed, clutching a handkerchief to my nose, and reeling backwards as we entered the kitchen.
Old Mr Murdoch paused, then paused some more. He sat down, and seemed to be considering the matter. Then he paused for another few minutes before answering: ‘NO.’
So I decided to address my question to the young Mr Murdoch. ‘But surely you can see what I mean? This smell is simply appalling!’
Young Mr Murdoch seemed eager to answer. ‘I am glad you asked me that,’ he replied. ‘It’s a very good question.’
I was delighted by his compliment. He was making a very good impression on me. ‘Respectfully,’ he added, ‘I am not in a position to remember our present position. However, we maintain that a smell is not a smell if it cannot be smelt.‘To clarify our position: since we — Murdoch & Son — are unable at this point in time to perceive or in any other way acknowledge any such odour, acting on the advice of our chief legal officer we — respectfully — deny all claims made against us.
‘We are a very big company of plumbers. We cannot be expected to be aware of the full details of the sewage flowing from every little pipe.’
He was clearly a hugely important person. How could I have been so thoughtless as to bother such a busy man with my silly little problem? I offered them a cup of tea. To my surprise, as I turned on the tap in the kitchen sink, out poured a stream of raw sewage.
‘What have you DONE?’ I wailed.
Old Mr Murdoch stared at the flowing sewage, then paused. He dipped into his pocket and brought out a prepared statement.
‘This is the most humble moment of my life,’ he read. ‘And, furthermore, this is the most humble moment of my life — or have I just said that?’
It occurred to me that Murdoch & Son were beginning to acknowledge a measure of responsibility in the matter.
‘Many people,’ I observed, cautiously, ‘might think that the fault lies with you, and that, when all is said and done, you shouldn’t have fixed the fresh water pipes to the sewage system. Would you agree?’
‘I am,’ said old Mr Murdoch, shaking his head, ‘proud to say this is the most humble moment of my life. Of all the humble moments of my life, this is surely the humblest. Be it ever so humble, there’s no corporation like ours. If you know the tune, you’re welcome to humble along.’‘With respect,’ said young Mr Murdoch, ‘to clarify our position: as a company, we are aware of the current problem, and determined to proactively address the nature of the question surrounding all our possible future answers. In addition, might I add that there is nothing further to add.’
‘But,’ I ventured, as the sewage began to leak out of the pipes and all over the kitchen floor, ‘you must surely be to blame for all this!’
Thank you for saying that. I understand why you might be thinking this,’ said young Mr Murdoch.
‘This is a great country,’ added old Mr Murdoch. My heart swelled with pride.
‘Respectfully,’ added young Mr Murdoch, helpfully, ‘we have seen no evidence for our involvement, and, sadly, any information available at the current time relating to your pipework that may or may not be in our possession must remain highly confidential.
‘We continue to take full responsibility for our entire lack of culpability. We also intend vigorously to pursue the truth, and to ensure it never again sets foot in this town.’
They were an impressive pair, and I felt greatly reassured. I thanked them for their co-operation. By now, the kitchen was knee-deep in sewage, so before they left, I asked if they were going to clean it all up.
‘A very good question. Regrettably, it remains beneath the answer threshold,’ replied young Mr Murdoch.
I apologised for taking up so much of his valuable time.
‘By the way,’ added old Mr Murdoch, sagely, ‘did I mention that this is the most humble day of my life?’
by Craig Brown 20th July 2011, The Mail.
