Disco Luxury by Richard Soos

In which Archie plays the fool, and E.R. is Suckerhorn’s tool.

(Note: This story follows ‘When the Circus Comes to Town' and will not make sense separate from it’.)


Archie’s Primary school was one of the last clinker brick primary schools in the district. Built when the country was still building for Empire. From his experience, it was just a feeder school to a non-selective private school, stylized as a Grammar school.

A Grammar School by definition teaches Latin, though this principle hasn’t any idea of it. It is Just another faded empire.


In the assembly hall, the principal spends 15 minutes teaching them Pig Latin instead and then pretends to explain the Motto on their blazer ‘caestu non est tabernus’. Scratching his head effusively he translates it as ‘Up here for thinking; down there for dancing. And to prepare you for the dancing’, he smirks, ‘how about we have a class of Aerobics? – Miss Petty?’ Archie takes this comical translation literally, not realizing he has just been hand-balled ignorance.


At the low-rise stage, Miss Petty strips to a hot pink leotard and Jazz ballet leg warmers. Archie is overwhelmed as she jiggles to her 80s music home cassette. He claps when told to and stomps as well until the home-mix ends and the original disco songs recorded well before the 80s music continue through on the cassette. To this, she busts out some ‘John Travolta Points’ and encourages Archie to strut his stuff.


E.R. is incensed. Somehow he stole her Arrow chase game in back seat diplomacy, and now, just for being a front-row perve, he wins again! This doesn’t sit well with her at all!

With that thought, E.R. storms off on her heels to the school counselor’s window...

The door has a sign that says – My window is always open. Oliver had once scratched below it ‘please don’t jump!’. School kids pop in their heads from the schoolyard to say hello, without any legal concern or impropriety for the councilor, Errol.

Errol finds that most of his fieldwork is just listening to the tempo of the schoolyard. That and finding the male figure of each household – which even then was getting harder.

Like a giraffe at a zoo, E.R.’s head and neck extend unannounced through his window, ‘Errol!, would you believe it!’ she starts.


‘Oh, Miss E.R? how wonderful to have your wheel by. Watch out for the tea pot. If you don’t mind drinking from the cup your ringlets were just in, I’ll pour you a Russian Caravan Tea’.