Tainted Genius…

After the recent chaotic meeting between Nigel Bookbinder and Paul Holt (the famous twelve-year old Child Barrister), I decided to arrange a new meeting in the hope that a meeting of two such great minds would spark off a lively debate.

However, I was quite surprised when Paul turned up with his ten-year old brother, Barrington Holt.

“Doing a spot a baby-sitting Paul?” I joked.

“Not all,” replied Paul. “Barrington may be young, but he is a qualified Doctor and specializes as a Plastic Surgeon. Apparently he has a brilliant reputation. But as he can only operate out of school hours, he is very much in demand!”

“Well Well! Such a talented family!”

At this point, Nigel exploded from his chair and started spluttering “You seriously expect me to believe this Humphrey? You bring me a twelve year-old Barrister, which I find hard enough to swallow, but then drag along another child who claims to be a Plastic Surgeon? Is this some sort of elaborate hoax Humphrey!!!”

He paused for breath then continued “Are you trying to pull some sort of scam on me again? Present these brilliant children to me, whom you have probably dragged off the streets? What next? Suggest I give them a scholarship whilst you pocket the proceeds? JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH HUMPHREY!!!”

Ordinary children would have been scared witless. But not the Holt brothers. Barrington was the first to respond:

“Sir. Whilst I can understand your concerns, I simply have to state that your suspicions are completely groundless. I am a genuine medical doctor. If you have ever watched the popular 1990’s American Television program ‘Dougie Howser M.D.’, you will understand that it is perfectly feasible to become a child doctor, although it is not a frequent occurence.”

“But aren’t you too…small…to operate on people?” asked Nigel.

Paul broke in and replied “Barrington often has to stand on a stool to reach the operating table, but apart from that, he has no problems. Although he does get quite excitable after he has been performing breast implants all evening…”

“Shut up Paul!” demanded Barrington.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” shouted Paul and swiftly whacked Barrington across the back of the head.

This sent young Barrington into an absolute rage, and within seconds Paul and Barrington were throwing punches, colliding into furniture and causing absolute pandemonium. Nigel stood shrieking whilst his expensive antiques and paintings came crashing down to the floor.

Although I enjoyed Nigel’s absolute panic, things were getting a little out of hand, so I stopped the fighting by dragging the boys to their feet by their shirt collars.

“GET THOSE LITTLE…. BEASTS… OUT OF MY APARTMENT!” screamed Nigel, as his face turned red, then purple.

I shuffled the boys out as quickly as possible, and sent them home in a taxi. Perhaps I shouldn’t be too harsh. For all their genius, they are still young, and need to let off a little steam now and again…