Go on then, tell them all what has happened to you? Go on, here, take my phone and ring my parents, my family and my friends. Ring my colleagues too. Telephone the golf club in fact why don’t you take out an advertisement in a local, no, make it a national newspaper and tell everybody about how badly you have been treated? Climb on the roof and shout it to the neighbourhood, tell everyone who calls at our door and bellow it to strangers as they walk past. Do it, go on, tell them about. Announce it, broadcast it, transmit it, send it out by mail, e-mail ,message and radio signal. Have it blaring from the radio, repeatedly playing on television, hell I will even let you strap a message to a flock of pigeons and you can let them deliver the news that way. Scrawl how badly you have been treated by me on a piece of paper and wrap it around a brick and hurl it through the window at the police station. Scream it long and loud until you are hoarse. Go on, tell them, tell them all.
Tell my parents about their successful son who has studied hard, achieved brilliant results and now excels at work about what I do? Why don’t you gather all my friends around here and announce to them what a bastard I am? I am sure they will be intrigued to listen to you saying that about their loyal and dependable friend who always makes time for them and has helped them out in repeated ways through his largesse and influence. Pop next door and bang on their front door, explain to them with your wild eyes and even wilder hair what has really been happening? After all, I only every show them friendship and politeness don’t I? I don’t think they have heard me shouting at you (I wait until they are away before I raise my voice) but I know they have heard you ranting and bawling. Go to the local shopping parade and mention to the pleasant lady at the bakery what I really get up to behind closed doors. I am sure she will love to hear you tell her all about the charming man who is her best customer and has arranged for her to supply the restaurant of two of my friends. Call my brother and give him chapter and verse. Oh you can’t because he won’t answer the ‘phone to you anymore will he? I know, head down to the gym and see if you can interest any of the regulars with a hysterical rant about the chap who they all say hello to and who works out quietly and regularly. Type out a memo for my colleagues and circulate it to them. I am sure they will be interested to read all about their boss who holds the keys to their future. Declare it to the group I attend football with, they will want to know all about what I do won’t they? What’s that? These are all my people. At last you have recognised the truth of the matter in between your vile outbursts and hateful comments. I know then, ring up your sister and see what she has to say, mind you, I daresay you won’t want to give her the satisfaction after the way she came on to me would you? Tell your friends all about it. Oh wait, they are now my friends and all they have ever seen is how happy I have made you, the gifts, the trips, the presents and the love. What about the vicar? He will listen to you I am sure. It is what he does after all although what he will make of such slander against a regular attendee at his sermons and generous charity donor remains to be seen.
Do it, grab a loudspeaker, create a banner, haul a message behind an aeroplane and write it in the sand on the beach. Do it in this frenzied manner with words spilling from your twisted mouth, a word salad which makes no sense. I am sure the staccato way you spit out your accusations will be well-received. Make sure they look deep into your crazy eyes when you are talking to them, I want them to see who they are really dealing with. Tell your father will you? Ha, he has put up with this for years and was glad to see you leave home, he told me himself. He knows what a drama queen you are and as for your mother well she hates confrontation and she adores me since she knows just how much I have done for you.
Go on, beat your tiny fists about that façade, see if you can punch some holes in it although I know you will not be able to. Shout and stamp and holler all you like. I will enjoy watching you do that and there will be no favourable outcome for you. You are the crazy one and you are trying to unseat the stable, rational, dependable and ultimately far more likeable me. But you keep trying, it amuses and fuels me as your bloodied hands slap against the façade with no effect and your voice becomes no more than a rasp. I will watch as the hope fades in your eyes to be replaced by fear and incomprehension. Keep trying though, keep going and reinforce what I have already indoctrinated them to believe. They believe me. They won’t believe you.