Are you ready?
Asked Quimfrey the soft skills trainer.
I looked at him with some distaste. I had never been a big fan of soft skills training because it tends to be a load of made-up shite and today's Leadership one was proving to be no exception.
I gave a grudging nod and reached forward and took three of the cards from Quimfrey's pile.
He smiled in a way that suggested he would be more comfortable locked naked in a room full of old worn socks than in a room full of belligerent IT professionals who were still shaking off the remnants of a weekend hangover.
The other unlucky trainees in the room also partook in selecting some cards from Quimfrey's deck.
Quimfrey beamed happily at us.
Now, I would like you to turn your cards over and arrange them as the top card being that which you have lots of, the middle card as one in which you could do with more of and put as the last card that which you feel could be used to improve the first two.
He audibly clucked with contentment and leaned back in his chair and gazed at us intently, waiting for our moves.
I flipped my cards over and stared at them with a loose kind of horror. They were animals. Not even amazing animals like lions, crocodiles and the like but normal shit animals. I had:
Bat of Magic
Fox of Awareness
and...
Duck of Communication
A fucking duck? A duck? How is quacking associated with communication?!
I took a deep breath and mustered up every ounce of diplomacy I had.
Are these children's cards?
Quimfrey chuckled with delight like an elderly grandfather half an hour after taking a viagra.
Well, it is funny you should say that! This...
He waved at a velvety-looking bag that no doubt at the weekend contained cable ties and duct tape.
is often known as a kit bag and we can use it in many circumstances. Including working with children.
He smiled condescendingly and tugged at his neckerchief.
I looked over at my colleagues all of whom were trying to sort out their cards into something that they thought might help them escape the fuck out of this room.
My mate Kipper looked particularly intense as he swithered over placing the Dog of Understanding or the Heron of Patience at the top of his selection.
I had been in many training sessions in my life but this was taking the fucking piss.
Ahhhh, the Duck of Communication...
I twirled the card of said duck in my fingers and tittered.
Have you ever heard of the infamous quank?
Quimfrey's smile dropped ever so slightly and he raised an eyebrow.
I beg your pardon?
His voice wavered up and down as if bobbing in the sea after a shipwreck.
A quank. Surely you have heard of it?
I hoped he hadn't heard of it as I was making it up.
Um, no. I haven't heard of this. It sounds a little... rude?
Quimfrey's cheeks flushed slightly as if saying the word rude was in itself rude.
It is a little rude! In fact, it is terribly rude! Shall I tell you?
I placed my hands flat on the table and leaned forward over the cards of power.
No thank you.
Quimfrey tugged harder at his neckerchief as if it could save him from the coming storm.
It is the age-old act of using a duck to masturbate yourself!
I clapped my hands together and let out a belly laugh.
Quimfrey quivered like the rear end of a cat when marking something with its arse glands.
You can step out of this exercise if you like, no one is making you do it.
His voice was soft like the underside of a duck that you would use in a quanking situation.
I slowly stood and tried my best to look abashed.
Yes, I think that might be best.
I tried not to click my heels on the way out but failed.
