Story 88: Reza Shadey and the Innovation Drought
It was a warm afternoon somewhere not too far from Catford, the kind of day where even the most ambitious butterfly decides to stay in bed. Mrs Higgins was listening to BBC Radio 4 in the kitchen, sipping her tea and sighing at the news. "Oh dear", she murmured to herself, repeating a phrase she'd just heard. "There's no money in the innovation jar."
On the windowsill, Reza Shadey — self-appointed Director of Feline Innovation and Chief Snack Strategist — froze. His ears, which had been idly monitoring the birds, swivelled like furry satellite dishes. "No money? No innovation?" he thought, his magnificent tail giving an alarmed twitch. "This is a catastrophe of national importance! The entire creative output of this postcode is grinding to a halt!"
He leapt off the windowsill with a dignified thud, trotted through the kitchen, hopped out the cat flap onto the patio. There, his friends were doing their best impressions of fluffy puddings. Penelope was curled into a perfect white circle, Ginger Tom was snoring gently, and Tiger was batting at a speck of dust with sleepy paws.
"Emergency meeting!" Reza bellowed, leaping onto the little patio table. "As Director of Feline Innovation, I hereby declare an Innovation Drought! The Ideas Bank is empty!"
Ginger Tom opened one eye. "We have an Ideas Bank?" he mumbled.
"We do now", Reza said, striking a heroic pose. "And it's bankrupt. But fear not! We shall refill it... with imagination! Tonight, we will host a Pitch Night! Everyone brings their best invention. The goal is to create concepts so brilliant, so revolutionary, that the other garden animals will be begging to invest their snacks with us!"
That evening, the garden was transformed. Reza wore a satin bow tie he'd "borrowed" from a drawer. Penelope, ever the pragmatist, distributed clipboards made of old leaves. Tiger provided snacks — mostly crushed cornflakes. Ginger Tom begrudgingly agreed to be the judge, a role which he decided mostly involved napping with one eye open.
"Welcome to Pitch Night", Reza announced grandly. Penelope stepped forward. "I present: The Mood Collar. It changes colour depending on your emotional state — blue for calm, red for angry, green for hungry."
Ginger Tom squinted. "What if you're all three at once?"
"It flashes like a disco ball", Penelope replied proudly.
Tiger bounced in next. "Behold! The Nap Accelerator! It's a cushion that plays a gentle lullaby and then... ZAP!" He demonstrated it on an old teddy bear. A small spark flew, and the bear's fluffy head flopped over at a rather alarming angle. "Effective", Reza admitted. "Possibly lethal."
"My turn!" Reza cried, wheeling forward a contraption cobbled together from Mrs Higgins's blender, a pair of roller skates, and a suspicious fishy smell. "The Tuna-Powered Scooter! Eco-friendly. Fast. Delicious!" He jumped aboard, hit a button, and promptly skidded into the begonias. CRASH! Flower petals flew like confetti.
Finally, Ginger Tom stood up, yawned, and presented his idea. "The Anti-Meeting Blanket. You throw it over your head and no one can ask you to do anything." He demonstrated, disappearing under a tartan rug and instantly falling asleep. "Genius", Reza beamed. "Tragically underwhelming, but genius."
Undeterred by the catastrophic prototypes, Reza announced the next phase. He went to another corner of the garden, which was decorated with fairy lights. He placed an empty old jam jar — 'The Innovation Jar' — on a pedestal of flowerpots. "Friends, felines, forest dwellers", he announced to a small crowd of curious squirrels and pigeons. "Our Ideas Bank is not funded by money, but powered by belief! Invest your finest acorns and crumbs with us, and you will be part of a revolution of tuna scooters and disco collars!"
Just as a particularly gullible-looking squirrel was about to deposit an acorn, a voice sliced through the air like a perfectly manicured claw. "Oh, darling. You call this innovation?"
Heads turned. It was Shah Fluffybutt, regal as ever, with his nose tilted upward. He surveyed the chaotic scene with disdain. "Reza, my dear chap. I trust your failure rate has been upgraded since your disastrous appearance on 'The Lion's Lair'?"
Reza's tail stiffened. A tense silence fell. The two magnificent Persians stared at each other, a low hiss building in Reza's throat. It was the beginning of a classic cat stand-off.
"Ah, Shah Fluffybutt", Reza said, his voice dangerously smooth. "Your presence reminds us all what not to do — like having a name that sounds like a cushion brand." The squirrels giggled. Shah Fluffybutt's fur bristled.
"My inventions are flawless", the Shah sniffed. "They do not explode or require roller skates."
Reza grinned, turning to the crowd. "But where is the fun in that? True innovation is chaotic! It's crunchy! It's occasionally combustible! Only a true visionary can appreciate the genius of a scooter that doubles as a snack dispenser!"
The crowd murmured their approval. A pigeon dropped a shiny bottle top into the jar. The squirrel deposited his acorn. The Innovation Drought was over! Mrs Higgins returned to find her garden buzzing with excitement and her blender missing. She just chuckled, ruffling Reza's head. "Well, imagination is worth more than money."
Of course, Reza never changed. His plans still exploded. He crashed no fewer than five scooters into the begonias. He declared himself Visionary-in-Chief and printed business cards on cheese wrappers. But in the world of Reza Shadey, imagination was the only currency that mattered — and chaos was free with every purchase.
Night night. Sleep tight.