PARKER'S IMAGE: REWORKED.
I do not own the rights to Thunderbirds, Carlton (or is it Granada) does. My respect and admiration go out to all those who created this unique show.
This is a small reworked drabble of Parker, during his third visit to the island. Complete.
Parker stepped back, scrutinising his image in the bathroom mirror. Okay so it wasn't quite the effect he'd been hoping for as he surveyed the half dozen or so pieces of tissue dotted at random around his characterful face, but it was a new blade, and recommended by Kyrano. These things took time to bed in (so he'd been told). None of those new fangled razors for him, thankyou very much. He much preferred the traditional method, and… well…. once the new blade had been 'bedded in' he'd have skin as smooth as the proverbial babies' bum……so Kyrano said.
As for the rest of him….he winced at his protruding unruly mop and quickly set about taming it with the pure bristle brush her ladyship had given him. With his recalcitrant greying locks now forced back into their familiar middle parting Parker stood back to re-examined his appearance and well, perfect came to mind as he admired the reflection peering back at him. With bias he overlooked the bags under his eyes, the large hook nose, the over generous lower lip, the heavy jowls with their permanent five o'clock shadow. Fastening the four buttoned silk and wool waistcoat with its twin welt pockets he then reached for the matching coat. It would be fair to say that Parker was not without a certain vanity, and in the confines of his room he demonstrated this admirably as he turned sideways allowing himself perhaps a full minute to savour the image reflected back at him in the full length glass. His eyes lingered admiringly over the cut of his hand made suit, the best money could buy and paid for by her ladyship's wages, and he nodded with approval. From the top of his white Italian linen shirt to the bottom of his bespoke medium weight 100 pure cashmere wool Savile Row suit with its charcoal grey stripes and satin lapels, Parker oozed style, and he knew it.
"Aloysius me ol' son, you do look dapper if ay do say so mayself." An image of his counterpart in his more modest traditional Malayan Baju Raya outfit came to mind, and brought with it a smug smile, "Ky-ran-ho, eat yer heart out."
A quick glance at his Rolex watch (not paid for by her ladyship's wages) showed it was time to get her ladyship her breakfast. Exiting the guest room he'd been allocated he rounded the corner straight into the two oldest Tracy boys.
"Hey there Parker, that's an interesting 'rash' you've got there. Measles is it?" Scott observed.
"Very funny sir."
"My brother Alan used to sport a look of that sort, you ought to let him give you a few tips…" John added.
"Or better still they could swap notes."
"Even better, they could use them as a new type of coded message signals; Dad's always looking for interesting new codes."
"Bet they couldn't crack this one."
"As long as we're not all encouraged to adopt the look."
"Yeah, I wouldn't want to be that in"
"Ay heyppreciates you young lads 'as to 'ave your fun, but hey would appreciate it if you didn't do it at may hexspense."
"What's up Parker…..did we hit a," and they looked at each other and grinned, "Sore 'spot'?"
From the corner of his eye Parker noted another of the Tracy brothers leaving his bedroom, the auburn haired one. He groaned, and made to move before he had to endure any further comments, but wasn't quick enough as Gordon did a double take and halted in his tracks.
"Setting a trend there Parker?"
"Not one of yours then?" Scott turned to Gordon, and right on his wavelength Gordon fired back, "Nope, I can't take the credit this time, must be slipping. Who ever it was though I'd like to shake their hand, wished I'd thought of it myself….."
"Your impertinence is not heyppreciated sir. Now if you'll hexscuse me, 'er ladyship will be requirin' may services."
He sniffed, walking stiffly away, with the gusto of laughter from the Tracy boys, ringing in his ears.