CHAPTER EIGHT
-- TAKEOFF--
It took three months for LIT-TISSUE to catch on.
But when it did it took off at a pace nobody expected, stunning even Fred.
And it just continued to gather momentum with each passing week and month.
The store chain that stocked LIT-TISSUE rolls claimed to have more than a thousand stores around the United Kingdom with a little under a hundred in London alone. It was in the capital’s stores that LIT-TISSUE was launched and once it became known branch managers in other major cities and down to small towns all wanted part of the action.
At the end of the fourth month Fred, who had been in regular touch with his Japanese partners, e-mailed an urgent request for a new run of five times the original consignment. The Japanese company queried the request but once told what was happening in Britain readily agreed and arranged for the printing presses to be operating at full capacity to the detriment of one or two other clients.
At the same time they brought forward the timing for the Japanese launch. Their early decision had been to wait and see what happened in the UK and if the prospects looked favourable then they would begin with a mini launch in Tokyo. In the meantime, efforts to secure Japanese novels were stepped up. Also included in their target sights were comics, a genre hugely popular among young and old. The more graphic and gory the better.
Unsurprisingly social media was responsible to a large extent for the success.
It seemed that every person who stumbled upon LIT-TISSUE in their local store felt compelled to tweet about it or share their good luck with every friend on their Facebook pages.
Twitter, according the verifiable research, records a mind-blowing two hundred and fifty million tweets per day. It was not possible to say just how many referred to LIT-TISSUE once it was launched around the country, but the word was that someone somewhere appeared to have heard of LIT-TISSUE and was obliged every few seconds to tell others in no more than a hundred and forty characters.
Lit-tissue. You just have to get one. No, you have to get a bundle. TheGoodReadWipe. Brilliant.
Not quite Gone with the Wind but a must for your loo. Lit-Tissue. Who’s the brain behind it?
Who wants florals and stuff when you can have a near free book to hand? Lit-Tissue is mega.
What once was before you can be used behind. A new slogan for the guys behind Lit-Tissue? I will demand generous royalties.
“We’re getting order requests from everywhere,” the chain store’s BDM told Fred’s marketeer. “This LIT-TISSUE is the hottest product we have on our shelves today. It’s unbelievable.”
“What did I tell you?” answered the marketeer. “It’ll become a must have for every home.”
“It already is by the looks of it.”
“Fantastic. Everyone in London will be wanting them soon.”
“Not just in London,” corrected the BDM. “Every single regional manager is reporting huge sales.”
“I’ll pass that on to Mr Nurk,” said the marketeer.
“Tell him also at head office we’re getting requests from outside the UK too.”
“Really? Where from?”
“Goodness me. Everywhere. From New Zealand to Norway. And it’s not just the ordinary stories that are proving popular.”
“Oh?”
“You remember the sample we looked at?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s also proving rather popular.”
“Interesting. I think I mentioned that it probably would appeal to a niche audience.”
“You were right. I had the till staff keep an eye on who was buying what and it seems that the word is out regarding A Gentleman’s Etiquette. Mind you the title is rather misleading.”
“I guess you could say that.”
As it happened the marketeer was at that moment sitting in his own bathroom with that very roll of LIT-TISSUE cupped in his left hand. It was the second sheet of the first chapter that he was reading:
Public convenience counsel:
A gentleman leaves no spillage.
He must, therefore, ensure he has clean tissues to hand.
Also he must take great care to avoid contracting any unwanted diseases.
To ensure this it is recommended that prior to being seated clean tissues, double layered, be affixed to the toilet seat.
The art of reaching the utmost satisfaction:
Before starting the actual process of masturbation it is recommended that a gentleman should not be impatient – rather a gentleman should relax, rest his back against the support behind him and pause.
Fred’s marketeer moved the LIT-TISSUE roll to his left hand, freeing his right, and leaned back against the cistern.
He was not alone.
Nightclubs throughout the city had begun stocking up on a wide range of books. Most were short stories. But invariably there was at least a spare roll in most cubicles with the title A Gentleman’s Etiquette branded across the front. What was noticeable too was the frequency of young men heading to the toilets during the evening. Queues to match those at the ladies loos began forming.
Schools began experiencing changes as well, changes that they could not understand. Teachers were aware something was afoot but they did not know what it was.
Afoot it was. Also to hand.
Schoolboys began carrying spare LIT-TISSUE tolls in their satchels. And classes were being interrupted throughout the day by boys asking if they could be excused to go to the toilet.
Teachers began exchanging stories about their individual classes when they met in common rooms. Everyone seemed to be seeing the same thing. And it was becoming a cause for concern. Their view across the board was that the interruptions were temporary but when the students returned to their class rooms quite often they soon began to get sleepy and lose concentration. Some even nodded off at their desks.
Six months after the LIT-TISSUE launch in London it had swept the country and the shopping chain was delighted. The message to Fred was to keep the rolls coming. They did not put a limit on what they could retail.
As for Fred himself he was in a sort of daze. He did not know exactly what sort of commission he was earning but he knew it was a lot. He had had to hire an accountant to handle everything and had instructed them to just make sure that a reasonable sum was transferred to his personal bank account at the end of each month. The balance was to be held in another business account. For the first few months he asked for and received financial reports and was amazed at what he was earning. After three months he told them he did not need the reports monthly but instead would expect them to be sent to him on a quarterly basis.
Another problem he had to deal with early on was how to prevent his private life being totally destroyed by his success. His telephone had had to be disconnected at his flat. Shortly after having done that he had to go further and rent a second one bedroom flat in another part of London just to escape the media. He had had to change his mobile too. And he grew a beard.
Fred began to live a completely new life, but it turned into a life that he did not anticipate.
He was afraid to go out in public many days.
And nights were just as bad.
Despite his changed appearance on days that he did venture into town there was always someone who would stop him in the street, block his path on the sidewalk, and peer sideways at him before asking quizzically: “Are you the real Fred Nurk?”
Just who the un-real Fred Nurk might be and what he might look like left Fred wondering at first but he soon decided that was a waste of time.
More often than not he would deny it, even if the member of the public persisted with his or her questions.
There were other times when it was not so easy to dislodge himself from the inquisitive member of the public. Especially when it was a young member of the public. And even more especially where there were a number of them together in a group.
“Hey mister” they would call out to him as they rode by on their bicycles, or from the windows of a passing bus. “Hey mister, got any paper? Toilet paper? I’m busting to go.”
Fred would ignore them but invariably they would not be put off.
“Come on mister,” they would go on. “Please. I’m about to mess my pants. Please give me some LIT-TISSUE.” And then one of them would take a handkerchief from his pocket and holding it to his nose and over his mouth chant alone until the others joined in: “Lit-tissue, lit-tissue, lit-tissue, lit-tissue. Oh, not to worry it was only a sneeze.”
That was how the chant began, but eventually it went almost viral and Fred found that wherever he went there was always someone, somewhere near who would begin the chant: “Lit-tissue, lit-tissue, lit-tissue, lit-tissue.”
So he stopped going out during the day.
But it got no better at night.
No matter that he avoided areas where young teenagers would gather in groups he found himself facing a different kind of pestering.
Old people. Old women mainly. In shopping centres. At cinemas. In any corner shop or green grocers. Even in the bank if he dropped in to get some pocket money.
“Oh Mr Nurk,” they would sidle up to him and say. “You are a dear.”
They would reach out and touch him on the arm, sometimes caress his cheeks.
A perfect example of the approach he had to put up with was when an aged white haired stooped lady barred his way in one of the aisles of the local Ice Land store: “You will never know how much LIT-TISSUE means to me,” she told him. “When you get older you’ll know what I mean. It’s not as easy you know. Things become, how shall I say, a tad more tricky. And a lot longer to do. So being able to do something and not just sit there is good. Something useful. To keep the brain working while down below is making up its own mind what to do. It’s just wonderful dear. Wonderful.”
Too much information, Fred said to himself. Far too much.
But they came from all sides, in all places, at all times.
So it was not long before Fred decided it was best to do his shopping online and to stay indoors unless there was an absolute need for him to go out.
LIT-TISSUE had freed him in one way but had become his jailer in another quite unexpected one.