Last night, there was a man in my fridge and he told me he's going to change the world
By Andy Morris
“Last night, I found a man in my fridge, and he told me he’s going to change the world,” Steve announced to his friend, Gazza. Gazza was already in the breakroom of the Happiness Factory. He was facing the glorious coffee machine, which boasted the most extensive range of speciality drinks one could imagine. A person could work at the Happiness Factory for years and sample only a fraction of the colourful and glamorous beverages. Steve had never heard of most of them, and there were quite a few that he couldn’t even pronounce. They all came with a variety of flavours, additional syrups and toppings, as well as promises of textures that would transcend any ordinary drinks. It was as if there was a wizard sat inside the machine brewing all sorts of spellbinding potions for the employees to try. Gazza was deep in thought as he contemplated which of the exotic options he should select. Every day he'd spend a good five minutes studying the menu. Then he'd complain there was nothing he really wanted, and he'd simply go with a basic milky coffee. Gazza had never been very imaginative, in Steve’s opinion.
"That's a bit of a turn up for the books, isn't it.” Gazza eventually replied as he swiped his card and pressed the button for his milky coffee.
“You’re not wrong,” Steve agreed. “I went into the fridge to get a slice of banoffee pie, and there he was, sitting all hunched over on the middle shelf, helping himself to my banoffee pie! He was wearing a posh suit, and his hair was immaculate. He looked as if he were about to go on the telly." Steve paused as he studied the drinks menu. After a few moments, he selected his favourite – a milky white tea. Gazza smirked at his uninspiring choice, but Steve ignored him and continued. “When he saw me, he spun around and quickly wiped his mouth with a blue handkerchief. Then climbed out of the fridge as if nothing had happened.”
“What happened then?” asked Gazza, showing more interest.
“Well, he shook my hand and said, ‘David Malice, call me Dave. Wonderful to meet you, thanks for coming.’”
The coffee machine buzzed and whirred. The lights around the edge flashed in their dazzling choreography as Steve’s milky white tea was presented to him.
“I asked him what he was doing in my fridge and had he just eaten my banoffee pie. He denied eating any pie, and he said he would never set foot in another person’s fridge. I was going to point out that I’d just seen him in my fridge, but then he talked about why I need to vote for him on Tuesday.”
Gazza looked thoughtful as he blew on his boring cup of coffee. Then he asked, “Did you say he was called David Malice? The politician?”
When Steve nodded in confirmation, Gazza continued, “Because he came to my flat a couple of weeks ago as well. Like you, I found him in my fridge eating my banoffee pie. Well, at least I think he ate it. When I'd put it in there, there had been three-quarters of it left, but when I opened the door, there was only one tiny slice sitting on the tray. He said he hadn’t had any, and banoffee pies weren’t important to him because,” Gazza paused dramatically. “He’s going to change the world!” Gazza’s eyes widened as he relived the moment. “When you said he was in your fridge, I thought it might be a different David Malice, but he said the same thing to both of us. It sounds pretty incredible - doesn't it? Someone is finally going to change the world. People have been saying it for years, but I think he might actually do it. He’s definitely getting my vote next week. Having a prime minister who can literally change the world is exactly what this country needs.”
Steve had never seen Gazza so animated before.
“So what about your banoffee pie?”
Usually, his friend would be gutted at losing it. Banoffee pies were his favourite after all. Before he could answer, their friend and team leader, Lorraine, came bustling into the breakroom. Her towering mop of ginger hair brushed against the doorframe as she squeezed into the room and lumbered towards her two colleagues.
“Are you two talking about pies?” she asked expectantly, licking her thin lips. “I love a good peakon pie. Mmm, delicious! I’m going to pick one up tonight on the way home.” Lorraine didn’t even glance at the star-studded array of drinks on the coffee machine and simply selected a rather adventurous double hot chocolate with cream.
“But – ” she continued, looking at them both in turn. “ – If I had to choose my absolute favourite type of pie, I’d have to go with banoffee. I love banoffee pies, but I just can’t have them at home anymore. They attract too many of those pesky politicians!”
“Steve had one in his fridge last night,” Gazza piped up. “It was the same one that I had the other day. He said he’s going to change the world, so I can’t wait to vote for him.”
Lorraine turned around. Her generous backside brushed against Steve’s leg, but she didn’t seem to notice. Lorraine pursed her thin lips and narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t convinced by David Malice’s promise.
“I’m not going to vote,” she decided as the machine mixed her drink. “I like my banoffee pies, and if I put one in the fridge, I don’t want to keep worrying about some politician sneaking in there and eating it all.”
Gazza looked a little crestfallen at Lorraine’s attitude so Steve, the self-appointed diplomat of the trio quickly stepped in and asked Gazza, “Did he tell you how he’ll change the world?” Steve realised he could have asked David Malice himself last night, but it never occurred to him.
Gazza thought for a moment as he took a sip of his bland drink. “No, I don’t think he went into details,” he slowly realised.
“We should ask him,” Steve suggested. He didn’t know much about politics but changing the world sounded great, and it could be interesting to know how one would go about doing it.
“We could put a banoffee pie in the fridge over there and wait for him to come." All three of them looked at each other for a moment and then agreed that was what they should do.
When lunchtime came around, Lorraine went out to buy her pecan pie to eat later that evening, and she also picked up a banoffee pie. The three colleagues gathered in the breakroom. Lorraine lovingly placed the banoffee pie in the fridge as if she were trying to put a sleeping baby into its cot without waking it.
“How long do we wait?” asked Gazza.
"He's probably very busy especially with an election coming up,” Steve suggested. “So why don’t we take a look in half an hour?”.
They each ordered another hot drink from the machine and waited. Thirty minutes later, Lorraine opened the fridge door to find a familiar-looking man in an expensive-looking suit and shiny black shoes crouched on the bottom shelf. He quickly shuffled his way out, and Steve noticed he had some cream on his jacket where he’d sat on someone’s scones. If David Malice knew the stain was there, he didn’t let it show as, without missing a beat, he stepped up to Lorraine and shook her hand warmly as if they were old friends.
“Hi, David Malice, call me Dave. Wonderful to meet you, thanks for coming.” Next, he moved down the line and vigorously shook Steve’s hand, clearly not recognising him from the night before.
“David Malice, call me Dave. Wonderful to meet you, thanks for coming.” Finally, he came to Gazza, taking his hand in a firm, confident grip.
“David Malice, call me Dave. Wonderful to meet you, thanks for coming.”
"Hello, Sir. Wow, it's a pleasure." Gazza stammered, clearly star-struck and stumbling over his words. Steve saw Lorraine getting ready to say something. It would no doubt be direct, challenging and, unintentionally rude. He knew how she viewed politicians, and so he quickly stepped in before she could say something that might annoy their guest.
“Mr Malice – ”
“ – Call me Dave,” he cut in smoothly, lightly clasping his hands before him as if appealing to the masses.
“Erm, Dave,” Steve began glancing at his friends. “You said you’re going to change the world and, we were just wondering, how will you go about it?”
David Malice produced a well-practised smile that showed off his perfect white teeth. “That is a good question, my friend, and one I am happy to answer. In fact, let me do one better than that,” he raised his finger to punctuate his words. “Vote for me on Tuesday, and I’ll show you how I will change the world. Now, enjoy the rest of your day and remember, I’m counting on all three of you.”
As he turned for the door, David Malice glanced at the grand high-tech coffee machine and murmured his approval before striding out of the breakroom.
Lorraine quietly harrumphed and muttered. “I see he’s had nearly all of that banoffee pie. I was hoping to have a slice.”
“Banoffee pie?” David Malice stuck his head back into the room. “Very kind of you, but it’s not my thing I'm afraid. Never touch them. I'm more of a pecan pie man myself. Oh well, cheerio.” Steve watched him march down the corridor towards the main reception as if he owned the company.
“Wow, if anyone can change the world, it’s him,” Gazza exclaimed, clearly not sharing Lorraine’s anguish at the lack of left-over pie.
“I’m not sure,” Lorraine tutted. “If he doesn’t like banoffee pies, then who’s eaten this one? Nope, he’ll have to change the world without my vote.” She knocked back her third double hot chocolate with cream and waddled back to her desk like a mother hen with Steve and Gazza in tow.
For the rest of the day at the Happiness Factory, Gazza gushed about how he’d met David Malice twice and how excited he was about him changing the world. Lorraine still didn’t share his faith, so Steve was unsure what to think about it all.
He was still reflecting on the day’s events when he got home to his flat that evening. Changing the world sounded like the right thing to do. The only problem was Lorraine didn’t seem to trust him very much. She was a good judge of character, but why would David Malice lie about eating that banoffee pie? It was a mystery; one that needed to be considered over a nice cup of milky white tea and a coconut macaroon. Steve opened the cupboard above his fridge, where he kept the biscuit tin and was surprised to see a man contorted into a sitting position between the shelves.
The stranger quickly jumped to the floor with the agility of a cat and smoothed down his sharp grey suit. He produced a red handkerchief and quickly wiped away coconut macaroon crumbs from his lips before taking Steve’s hand in an enthusiastic grip and giving it a solid shake.
“The MP Sanjeev Smiley,” he introduced himself in a cool unflappable tone. “I’ve heard a lot of good things, love to have you onboard."
For the second time in as many nights, Steve found himself lost for words as he stood before a politician who had unexpectedly dropped in.
“Erm, can I offer you a coconut macaroon?” Steve asked, unsure what else to say. “Thank you, but no,” The MP Sanjeev Smiley replied in his honey-rich voice. “I don’t eat coconut macaroons. Now tell me, Sir, do you know who you’ll be voting for on Tuesday?”
"I haven't made up my mind yet," Steve shrugged, wondering what this man was doing in his cupboard if he didn’t like coconut macaroons? That’s all that was in there.
“Well,” The MP Sanjeev Smiley went on enthusiastically as if he were about to share a tantalising secret. “What if I told you I could make all your dreams come true?”
Steve felt a silly grin start to spread across his face. That sounded fantastic! He’d love nothing more than to have all his dreams come true. This seemed like a much better promise than David Malice’s one. Then he recalled Lorraine’s words of caution, so he asked a very sensible question: “How can you make all my dreams come true?”
The answer both surprised and delighted Steve as The MP Sanjeev Smiley replied, “Vote for me on Tuesday, and I’ll show you.”
“I will,” Steve agreed without hesitation.
“Remember, I’m counting on you,” The politician thanked Steve with another world-class handshake before sashaying out the front door.
Steve’s life was about to change forever. He knew without a doubt that whatever happened on Tuesday, the future would be electrifying and sensational, just like the coffee machine in the break room of the Happiness Factory.
"That's a bit of a turn up for the books, isn't it.” Gazza eventually replied as he swiped his card and pressed the button for his milky coffee.
“You’re not wrong,” Steve agreed. “I went into the fridge to get a slice of banoffee pie, and there he was, sitting all hunched over on the middle shelf, helping himself to my banoffee pie! He was wearing a posh suit, and his hair was immaculate. He looked as if he were about to go on the telly." Steve paused as he studied the drinks menu. After a few moments, he selected his favourite – a milky white tea. Gazza smirked at his uninspiring choice, but Steve ignored him and continued. “When he saw me, he spun around and quickly wiped his mouth with a blue handkerchief. Then climbed out of the fridge as if nothing had happened.”
“What happened then?” asked Gazza, showing more interest.
“Well, he shook my hand and said, ‘David Malice, call me Dave. Wonderful to meet you, thanks for coming.’”
The coffee machine buzzed and whirred. The lights around the edge flashed in their dazzling choreography as Steve’s milky white tea was presented to him.
“I asked him what he was doing in my fridge and had he just eaten my banoffee pie. He denied eating any pie, and he said he would never set foot in another person’s fridge. I was going to point out that I’d just seen him in my fridge, but then he talked about why I need to vote for him on Tuesday.”
Gazza looked thoughtful as he blew on his boring cup of coffee. Then he asked, “Did you say he was called David Malice? The politician?”
When Steve nodded in confirmation, Gazza continued, “Because he came to my flat a couple of weeks ago as well. Like you, I found him in my fridge eating my banoffee pie. Well, at least I think he ate it. When I'd put it in there, there had been three-quarters of it left, but when I opened the door, there was only one tiny slice sitting on the tray. He said he hadn’t had any, and banoffee pies weren’t important to him because,” Gazza paused dramatically. “He’s going to change the world!” Gazza’s eyes widened as he relived the moment. “When you said he was in your fridge, I thought it might be a different David Malice, but he said the same thing to both of us. It sounds pretty incredible - doesn't it? Someone is finally going to change the world. People have been saying it for years, but I think he might actually do it. He’s definitely getting my vote next week. Having a prime minister who can literally change the world is exactly what this country needs.”
Steve had never seen Gazza so animated before.
“So what about your banoffee pie?”
Usually, his friend would be gutted at losing it. Banoffee pies were his favourite after all. Before he could answer, their friend and team leader, Lorraine, came bustling into the breakroom. Her towering mop of ginger hair brushed against the doorframe as she squeezed into the room and lumbered towards her two colleagues.
“Are you two talking about pies?” she asked expectantly, licking her thin lips. “I love a good peakon pie. Mmm, delicious! I’m going to pick one up tonight on the way home.” Lorraine didn’t even glance at the star-studded array of drinks on the coffee machine and simply selected a rather adventurous double hot chocolate with cream.
“But – ” she continued, looking at them both in turn. “ – If I had to choose my absolute favourite type of pie, I’d have to go with banoffee. I love banoffee pies, but I just can’t have them at home anymore. They attract too many of those pesky politicians!”
“Steve had one in his fridge last night,” Gazza piped up. “It was the same one that I had the other day. He said he’s going to change the world, so I can’t wait to vote for him.”
Lorraine turned around. Her generous backside brushed against Steve’s leg, but she didn’t seem to notice. Lorraine pursed her thin lips and narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t convinced by David Malice’s promise.
“I’m not going to vote,” she decided as the machine mixed her drink. “I like my banoffee pies, and if I put one in the fridge, I don’t want to keep worrying about some politician sneaking in there and eating it all.”
Gazza looked a little crestfallen at Lorraine’s attitude so Steve, the self-appointed diplomat of the trio quickly stepped in and asked Gazza, “Did he tell you how he’ll change the world?” Steve realised he could have asked David Malice himself last night, but it never occurred to him.
Gazza thought for a moment as he took a sip of his bland drink. “No, I don’t think he went into details,” he slowly realised.
“We should ask him,” Steve suggested. He didn’t know much about politics but changing the world sounded great, and it could be interesting to know how one would go about doing it.
“We could put a banoffee pie in the fridge over there and wait for him to come." All three of them looked at each other for a moment and then agreed that was what they should do.
When lunchtime came around, Lorraine went out to buy her pecan pie to eat later that evening, and she also picked up a banoffee pie. The three colleagues gathered in the breakroom. Lorraine lovingly placed the banoffee pie in the fridge as if she were trying to put a sleeping baby into its cot without waking it.
“How long do we wait?” asked Gazza.
"He's probably very busy especially with an election coming up,” Steve suggested. “So why don’t we take a look in half an hour?”.
They each ordered another hot drink from the machine and waited. Thirty minutes later, Lorraine opened the fridge door to find a familiar-looking man in an expensive-looking suit and shiny black shoes crouched on the bottom shelf. He quickly shuffled his way out, and Steve noticed he had some cream on his jacket where he’d sat on someone’s scones. If David Malice knew the stain was there, he didn’t let it show as, without missing a beat, he stepped up to Lorraine and shook her hand warmly as if they were old friends.
“Hi, David Malice, call me Dave. Wonderful to meet you, thanks for coming.” Next, he moved down the line and vigorously shook Steve’s hand, clearly not recognising him from the night before.
“David Malice, call me Dave. Wonderful to meet you, thanks for coming.” Finally, he came to Gazza, taking his hand in a firm, confident grip.
“David Malice, call me Dave. Wonderful to meet you, thanks for coming.”
"Hello, Sir. Wow, it's a pleasure." Gazza stammered, clearly star-struck and stumbling over his words. Steve saw Lorraine getting ready to say something. It would no doubt be direct, challenging and, unintentionally rude. He knew how she viewed politicians, and so he quickly stepped in before she could say something that might annoy their guest.
“Mr Malice – ”
“ – Call me Dave,” he cut in smoothly, lightly clasping his hands before him as if appealing to the masses.
“Erm, Dave,” Steve began glancing at his friends. “You said you’re going to change the world and, we were just wondering, how will you go about it?”
David Malice produced a well-practised smile that showed off his perfect white teeth. “That is a good question, my friend, and one I am happy to answer. In fact, let me do one better than that,” he raised his finger to punctuate his words. “Vote for me on Tuesday, and I’ll show you how I will change the world. Now, enjoy the rest of your day and remember, I’m counting on all three of you.”
As he turned for the door, David Malice glanced at the grand high-tech coffee machine and murmured his approval before striding out of the breakroom.
Lorraine quietly harrumphed and muttered. “I see he’s had nearly all of that banoffee pie. I was hoping to have a slice.”
“Banoffee pie?” David Malice stuck his head back into the room. “Very kind of you, but it’s not my thing I'm afraid. Never touch them. I'm more of a pecan pie man myself. Oh well, cheerio.” Steve watched him march down the corridor towards the main reception as if he owned the company.
“Wow, if anyone can change the world, it’s him,” Gazza exclaimed, clearly not sharing Lorraine’s anguish at the lack of left-over pie.
“I’m not sure,” Lorraine tutted. “If he doesn’t like banoffee pies, then who’s eaten this one? Nope, he’ll have to change the world without my vote.” She knocked back her third double hot chocolate with cream and waddled back to her desk like a mother hen with Steve and Gazza in tow.
For the rest of the day at the Happiness Factory, Gazza gushed about how he’d met David Malice twice and how excited he was about him changing the world. Lorraine still didn’t share his faith, so Steve was unsure what to think about it all.
He was still reflecting on the day’s events when he got home to his flat that evening. Changing the world sounded like the right thing to do. The only problem was Lorraine didn’t seem to trust him very much. She was a good judge of character, but why would David Malice lie about eating that banoffee pie? It was a mystery; one that needed to be considered over a nice cup of milky white tea and a coconut macaroon. Steve opened the cupboard above his fridge, where he kept the biscuit tin and was surprised to see a man contorted into a sitting position between the shelves.
The stranger quickly jumped to the floor with the agility of a cat and smoothed down his sharp grey suit. He produced a red handkerchief and quickly wiped away coconut macaroon crumbs from his lips before taking Steve’s hand in an enthusiastic grip and giving it a solid shake.
“The MP Sanjeev Smiley,” he introduced himself in a cool unflappable tone. “I’ve heard a lot of good things, love to have you onboard."
For the second time in as many nights, Steve found himself lost for words as he stood before a politician who had unexpectedly dropped in.
“Erm, can I offer you a coconut macaroon?” Steve asked, unsure what else to say. “Thank you, but no,” The MP Sanjeev Smiley replied in his honey-rich voice. “I don’t eat coconut macaroons. Now tell me, Sir, do you know who you’ll be voting for on Tuesday?”
"I haven't made up my mind yet," Steve shrugged, wondering what this man was doing in his cupboard if he didn’t like coconut macaroons? That’s all that was in there.
“Well,” The MP Sanjeev Smiley went on enthusiastically as if he were about to share a tantalising secret. “What if I told you I could make all your dreams come true?”
Steve felt a silly grin start to spread across his face. That sounded fantastic! He’d love nothing more than to have all his dreams come true. This seemed like a much better promise than David Malice’s one. Then he recalled Lorraine’s words of caution, so he asked a very sensible question: “How can you make all my dreams come true?”
The answer both surprised and delighted Steve as The MP Sanjeev Smiley replied, “Vote for me on Tuesday, and I’ll show you.”
“I will,” Steve agreed without hesitation.
“Remember, I’m counting on you,” The politician thanked Steve with another world-class handshake before sashaying out the front door.
Steve’s life was about to change forever. He knew without a doubt that whatever happened on Tuesday, the future would be electrifying and sensational, just like the coffee machine in the break room of the Happiness Factory.