George woke up on a bright sunny Sunday morning in his Italian mansion, he leaned over his wife Amal and kissed her on the cheek. He went downstairs in his silk dressing gown and made himself some organic orange juice.
There was a knock at the door, George asked himself "Who could that be, so early in the morning?" As he opened the door, there stood a short young man with a receding hairline, a sparse beard covering up his weak chin, hollow eyes and he held a clipboard. Behind this man was a bus. George said "Good morning, how can I help you?"
The bugman answered "Good morning, are you-" he looked at his clipboard, "Mr Clooney?"
"I am" George answered.
"Wonderful." The bugman smiled by opening his mouth as though he were a snake unhinging it's jaw, he went on "I am here to deliver your D I V E R S I T Y, Xir."
George looked at him blankly, "Excuse me, I didn't order any Diversity…"
The bugman laughed, "It is a government directive Mr Clooney."
"It's a government directive, Xir. Every household with more than one bedroom must take some wonderful D I V E R S I T Y, the amount being dependent on the number of bedrooms the house has." The bugman said.
"But I don't want any…. Diversity in my house, why can't the government or something build somewhere for these poor people?" George asked.
The bugman looked George in the eye, his hollow brown shells boring into George's ocular flesh, until he looked back to his clipboard "It says here that your property has… six bedrooms, that means you can have- let's see… one, two… thirty six refugees. Isn't that wonderful!"
"No!" George shouted, "No it isn't!"
The bugman smiled at George in that strange way. He said "But Xir, I am almost certain you have publicly supported the government taking in this wonderful D I V E R S I T Y, why are you against taking this gift into your home?" George was at a loss for words and shuffled his feet, the Bugman tapped his clipboard and said "Oh! I know! You are being modest Xir! You think you do not deserve this wonderful thing!"
George was taken aback, but when he absorbed this he felt this was a lifeline. He took it with both hands: "Yes! Of course, I would not like it if other, more deserving people were to miss out because of the amount that I am taking!"
The Bugman giggled like a four year old girl and jumped up and down, "Haha I know how you feel Xir! But do not fear, there are more than enough poor, displaced, refugees for E V E R Y O N E!"
It was hopeless, before George could extract himself from his depression the Bugman had already gone to the bus, he came back with thirty six men, all were between 18 and 40 years old, all had beards much thicker than the Bugman’s, they all also had the newest I-Phones for some reason George could not discern. He took the Bugman aside and quietly said: “Do I have to take all these men? Where are the women and children? They don’t seem to be in need of much….”
The Bugman looked at George the way one might look at an alien species, his mouth hanging open gormlessly, his dead eyes wide. “Of course they are in need, they need money and women and jobs and.. and… and safety and houses! You do have to take all these people, Xir, for it is the law! Everyone has an obligation to help in this crisis! Now you will take these men into your home and give them anything they want and do anything they say, they have my phone-number so if they are not satisfied they will tell me so I can report you to the authorities!”
George was flabbergasted, “I have to do anything they ask? I have to give them anything they want?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
“Because they deserve it! And it is the law! Now Xir I have other households to visit, goodbye!” With this the Bugman left.