Jackpot Jack: A London Farce - страница 4

And that's when it happened. As clear as day, a single, shimmering tear rolled down the tycoon's cheek. It was a magnificent tear, a testament to the absurdity of life. The source of this emotional outburst? A toddler, no bigger than a loaf of bread, gleefully splashing in the aforementioned puddles. The little tyke was having the time of his life, sending muddy spray in every direction.

Jack, quite flummoxed, dared to speak. “Erm, excuse me, are you alright?”

The tycoon dabbed at his eye with a handkerchief the size of a small tablecloth. “Perfectly fine,” he sniffed, his voice a low rumble. “Just…allergies, you know. Terrible allergies. Dust, pollen, err…toddlers.” He winked, but it came out looking more like a twitch.

Jack, naturally, believed every word. “Right you are,” he said seriously, nodding wisely. “Terrible allergies.”

Jack was having a bit of a day, finally. Not a bad day, mind you, just one of those days where he felt like a wilted lettuce left out in the summer sun. He was perched on the park bench, feeling about as significant as a misplaced apostrophe, when he spotted him: the businessman. The proper one, all sharp suit and shiny shoes, radiating an aura of success like a freshly polished brass kettle.

Seeing this beacon of achievement, Jack felt a surge of confidence, a feeling as rare as a sunny day in November. It was like a rusty engine sputtering to life. This was his moment! He would expound on the virtues of higher education, like a university professor giving his inaugural speech. He puffed out his chest, a bit like a robin trying to look bigger than it actually is, and launched in.

“Remarkable thing, education, isn’t it?” he began, his voice a tad too loud, like a foghorn in a teacup. “Opens doors, you see. Doors to opportunity, doors to…wealth! The more doors you have, the more rooms there are to roam around in, right?”

The businessman, a chap who looked like he could buy and sell Jack ten times over before elevenses, merely nodded, his expression as blank as a freshly laundered sheet.

Jack, undeterred, ploughed on. “A degree is like a golden ticket, a passport to a life of… stability! A steady job, a rising salary, climbing that ladder of success, rung by rung! A nice house, mortgage paid off in record time, the works!” He gestured wildly, nearly knocking over a passing pigeon.