Mr Marjella
Character Illustration by "GEORGIEandJAMES"
He snarled as he took his sip of morning coffee in the Teachers' lounge.
He scanned the crowded room for signs of his nemesis, and there he was, still professing his stupid end-of-the-world theory to the disillusioned art and french teachers
(who were looking dismayed at having been cornered by the photocopier)
He realised that blackmailing Shaquille hadn't worked, and that catching him attempting to impregnate Chelsea in the boiler room was now a blackmail that had been wasted.
He had known this two days prior when he had seen the young offender being roughly escorted out of the Headmasters office by Police.
In normal circumstances he would now become paranoid at the youth's blabbing mouth
and his involvement in the situation, a problem he now had no care for.
Silently edging towards the photocopier he whispered to the others,
who were still reeling from the hit and run of (bourbon induced) apocalyptic
rambling by the Physics master.
"what a load of nonsense," he incited ,
"my mathematical theorem totally disproves the ramblings of a drunk"
And with that he swished out the staff lounge knowing that yet again,
he had turned more of the teaching body away from the ramblings of the man he hated.
It was a friday, and he couldn't wait for the weekend.
He had been waiting for this weekend, for so long,
to finally get his hands on a few pieces from the Maison Martin Margiela new season.
It would be in store from 11a.m, so the mailing list email had said.
He had written in down in big permenant pen on the calendar date and circled the number,
just like his brand idol!
Despite his failed blackmailed indirect murder attempt,
he was happy at the thought of being in that clinical white and chrome space,
being waited on by those lab coat technicians as they brought out
more and more of the new season for him to try on.
Saturday morning came and he cheerfully bounded down Bruton St, in Mayfair,
past the hippy florals of Matthew Williamson
and the overbearing window display from Juicy Couture.
He liked his fashion conceptual, clinical, clean.
With joy he entered the familiar looking shop, greeted by the doorman.
Upon approaching the rails he felt uneasy....
An all too familiar set of garments hung there, beautiful, classic, edgy,
but he had seen them before......he had most of them in his wardrobe.
"whe...where is the new season??!?!!!" he spluttered, almost losing control
(something he was very careful never to do,
even at work and especially in the presence of the Margiela clothes)
The anger boiled up inside him as he heard the tale of how the store had opened early due to a special request from a Chinese nouveaux-riche and his entourage. His anger almost exploded as he learned that the entire new season had been bought out in its' entirety.
At home, disappointed and distressed, he thought over how the two things he had predicted to be successes had ended up as duds....not working out in his favour at all.
This weren't the equation outcomes he had predicted, and why? he was a genius!!
He decided he would cheer himself up by putting on every single piece of Maison Martin Margiela he could, even though it wasn't the new season.
He pondered over his mathematical theory, plastered all over the walls of his office,
all pointing to the same theory that had been echoed around the teaching lounge earlier.
He would get revenge. Revenge for the "stolen" Margiela.
He knew numbers, he knew all the numbers, and they went far further than '22'.
He picked up the phone and began to dial an unusual number for Britain.
Somewhere in a darkened room,
a long grey and black striped arm snaked around the receiver to pick it up..........
Mr Marjella only wears
He likes Numbers.
Margiela likes Numbers.
and Marjella like Numbers.
He has no eyes.....
but he has Numbers................
yes.... he has a Number Stare Beam and also he can throw Numbers!
the numbers will get in your head.... and start calculating it self up...
till your brain bursts........
NUMBER EXPLOSION!!!!
Where do you think all these ACC came from???
hmmmm... Can you guess???
yep!
your right!
from Margiela......
Did you guess it right this time???
and guess where the Gloves are from???
Hmmm?
Now use your little brain and tell us....
Yes
they are from John Lewis!!!! hahahaha!
and the beautiful SHOES!!!
you know when Mr Marjella Loves you or hate you....
when the ring shows the "HATE" sign that means he is planning to blow your brain with his Number slaves!!!!
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