It was the usual boring Thursday for Michael.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Shower, breakfast, watch the news, swear at whatever politician was being a dick on the morning news.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fire up the work computer, review his Inbox, Calendar and todo list, check in with his team and then settle down with a cup of coffee and his favourite music station to make a start on the day\u2019s work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The clock ticked on, and it was exactly 10:30 because the news had just started on the radio with people either complaining about or singing the praises of the recent budget from the Chancellor of the exchequer when the doorbell rang. Michael wandered down the stairs and opened the front door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Standing on the doorstep was a man in his 40’s, well dressed, neat hair and suspiciously well shone brogues. He was holding a clipboard. He smiled at Michael and said “Good Morning sir”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Michael braced himself for the “hard sell” that he felt was coming, would it be Double Glazing (he already had it), High speed Internal (he had that too), some new form of charitable giving for disadvantaged aardvarks with tongue issues.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The man paused and then said “Let me introduce myself” he handed Michael His Business card, it read<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lucien Corven The man continued, “It has been noted than in the rich tapestry of happenstance that you will be faced with a moral quandary and I am here to help. In this instance the CAP is waiving its normal charge and is offering my services free of charge, gratis, zip, nada moola!<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael was momentarily stunned “What? … CAP? … moral Quandary?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien smiled and replied “C.A.P. is the Committee of Agathokakological Possibilities. Lucien glanced at his clipboard. \u201cAt precisely 14:17 this afternoon, you will stumble across information you absolutely, positively should not know. A truth with the explosive yield of a small thermonuclear device. You will then have to decide whether to reveal it\u2026 or bury it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He leaned in conspiratorially.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd either choice is the wrong choice. That\u2019s why I\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLet me see here\u2026 ah. Yes. The truth is regarding your neighbour\u2019s son, one Jamie Harper.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael frowned. \u201cThe kid with the terrible haircut and the vape permanently glued to his hand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe very same,\u201d Lucien said. \u201cIn CAP terminology, this incident is classified as a Category 2 Domestic Chaos Event. Not apocalyptic, but with significant potential for interpersonal fallout, WhatsApp group warfare, and generations of lingering passive-aggressive hostility.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael blinked. \u201cWhat does the little sod do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien held up one polite finger. \u201cI must not reveal the truth itself. That would constitute interference. However,\u201d He checked another form. \u201cI am authorised to prepare you emotionally.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He cleared his throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou will shortly discover that your car was involved in an unauthorised extracurricular excursion. There may have been\u2026 an impact. Followed by amateur covert surface correction.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael stared. \u201cSo you mean he took my car on a joyride and fucking crashed it!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI can neither confirm nor deny,\u201d Lucien said smoothly, \u201cbut your tone suggests you\u2019re grasping the shape of the thing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd his parents covered it up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAstonishingly quickly,\u201d Lucien noted with professional admiration. \u201cCAP has highlighted their teamwork, albeit in the service of mild wrongdoing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael groaned. \u201cSo, I have to decide whether to confront them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien winced sympathetically. \u201cYes. And each option comes with its own flavour of misery.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien flipped the page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Option one:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cConfront them. This leads to parental fury, teenage meltdown, the likely spontaneous ignition of the neighbourhood WhatsApp group, and a complete breakdown of the fragile peace on this street. The Harpers will resent you for roughly three generations.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Option two:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSay nothing. This allows Jamie to believe he has successfully executed a criminal-level cover-up. He will escalate. At some point he will progress to a level of stupidity that cannot be buffed out with a mobile dent-repair service.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He snapped the clipboard shut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd that, Mr O\u2019Donnell, is your quandary. Neither choice is morally superior. Merely\u2026 differently awful.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien smiled pleasantly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy job is not to tell you what the lesser evil is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My job is to prevent you from choosing the greater evil out of sheer panic.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He handed Michael a small card titled Emergency Moral Support Line.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCall if you need coaching. But never call about boundary fences or Leylandia Hedges, they are just too awful and we do not do them anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael was halfway through making a cup of tea, strong, because he felt he\u2019d earned it, when the doorbell rang again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He froze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He had just spent an hour dealing with the Harpers, their son, and an improvised neighbourhood tribunal conducted on the pavement. He was emotionally bankrupt. The last thing he needed was another salesperson trying to flog him insulation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The bell rang a second time. Cheerfully. Purposefully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael closed his eyes. \u201cOh, for\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He opened the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien stood there with the same immaculate hair and aggressively shiny brogues, looking like he had stepped straight out of a different, much more organised universe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood afternoon, Mr O\u2019Donnell,\u201d Lucien said brightly. \u201cI\u2019m here for the post-quandary assessment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael stared at him. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien consulted his clipboard. \u201cThe Post-Quandary Assessment and Debriefing Conversation, or PQADC. Every mortal who completes a CAP defined ethical bifurcation receives one. Part of our quality assurance programme.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t even know what that means,\u201d Michael said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt means,\u201d Lucien said patiently, \u201cthat I\u2019m here to tell you how you did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He stepped past Michael and into the hallway with the comfortable authority of someone who didn\u2019t technically require permission.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou chose confrontation. Bold, bracing, and, if I may say so, deeply uncomfortable for all involved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n On the plus side: Jamie has experienced a formative lesson in accountability. He will now spend the next three weeks believing you possess supernatural powers of crime detection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n On the minus side: Mrs Harper has added you to her internal list of \u2018People I Am Very Nice To While Secretly Plotting Their Downfall\u2019<\/em>. She keeps it on her iphone ,That list is longer than you might expect and your name is both in a bold font and underlined.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien nodded as if all this were perfectly normal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He produced a tiny rubber stamp from his jacket pocket and thumped it onto a form.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCAP officially classifies your decision as: Quandary resolved, Severity Grade C-minus. Congratulations.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael blinked. \u201cC-minus? I got a C-minus on a moral decision?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien shrugged sympathetically. \u201cWe grade on a cosmic curve. No one gets As except cats. They\u2019re very efficient moral creatures.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien tucked the form back into his folder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThere is just one more matter,\u201d he said, producing an envelope with Michael\u2019s name written in elegant handwriting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael hesitated. \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYour next assignment,\u201d Lucien said. \u201cYou didn\u2019t think this was a one-off, did you? Once a mortal attracts CAP\u2019s attention, we usually find they have a\u2026 streak.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cA streak?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cA tendency,\u201d Lucien clarified. \u201cTo wander repeatedly into ethically ambiguous incidents.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael stared at the envelope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t want a next assignment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien smiled kindly. \u201cNo one ever does.\u201d He straightened his tie, stepped back onto the doorstep, and added:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe\u2019ll be in touch. Try not to break anything important ..\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then he vanished, not dramatically, but with the quiet dignity of someone who has a full afternoon of moral crises to get through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael closed the door and opened the envelope, he read.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dear Mr O\u2019Donnell,<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Congratulations on completing your Category 2 Domestic Chaos Event.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Your next morally ambiguous situation has been scheduled for:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Tomorrow, between 08:00 and 18:00.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n You will shortly find yourself in possession of information that:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Please note that CAP does not permit direct intervention, bribery, mind-wiping, or strategic arson.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Your upcoming dilemma is classified as: A Refuse Revelation Dilemma<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n We wish you the very best during this ethically perplexing period.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Try to remain calm, hydrated, and aware that perfection is neither expected nor statistically possible.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Warm regards,<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien Corven<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Senior Consultant, Lesser-Evil Division<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n C.A.P.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael thought \u201cWhat do I have to refuse?\u201d and then a single word, repeated repeatedly, that word was “Fuck”<\/p>\n\n\n\n The next morning Michael had intended nothing more ambitious than taking out his recycling and possibly not definitely sweeping the drive, he might if he felt a bit wild.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The weather was doing that indecisive British thing where it couldn\u2019t commit to sun or drizzle, so it gave him both simultaneously. He trudged down the path with his recycling in his arms and lifted the lid of his blue bin and froze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was full. He frowned, opened the general waste bin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Also nearly full. All the bags were knotted in the same way, neat double loop, turned under once.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Not his style.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His knots were more \u201centhusiastically chaotic\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Something prickled at the back of his neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He glanced down the street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He crouched, poked one of the bags.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Not his brand of bin bag either, these were thicker, darker, better quality. Someone with aspirations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael muttered, \u201cOh, no. No. Absolutely not. I am not getting involved in another neighbourhood fight\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He turned, went back into his house and slammed the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He headed for the kitchen, strong coffee was needed, but something on the edge of his vision made him stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At first, he thought it was a shadow moving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then he realised it was a person.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A figure in a dark hoodie, pushing a wheelie bin with the furtive posture of someone who knew, on a spiritual level, that they were doing something wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They paused at each house, lifted lids, and rummaged with practised efficiency.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael\u2019s jaw dropped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He watched in mounting disbelief as the figure: Michael stared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The figure repeated the operation with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker and the moral flexibility of a raccoon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He whispered, \u201cYou\u2019ve got to be bloody kidding me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A polite throat-clear sounded behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael yelped and spun around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien stood there, clipboard tucked under one arm, brogues immaculate, as if the pavement refused to dirty them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood afternoon, Mr O\u2019Donnell,\u201d Lucien said pleasantly. \u201cI see you\u2019ve discovered your scheduled moral predicament slightly ahead of time. Very proactive of you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael pointed helplessly. \u201cHe\u2019s…he’s stuffing his rubbish into everyone\u2019s bins! You meant REFUSE not REFUSE\u201d he frowned what he just said made sense when he composed the sentence in his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes,\u201d Lucien said, nodding as if this were a fascinating weather pattern.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYour neighbourhood is currently the site of a Category 1B Petty Social Entropy Event. Highly volatile. Surprisingly dangerous.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDangerous?\u201d Michael spluttered. \u201cHe\u2019s a bin bandit!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIndeed,\u201d Lucien said, consulting his notes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd according to CAP projections, if left unchecked this behaviour will lead to:<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael stared he could see the bullet points clearly in what Lucien had just said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c\u2026oh fuck!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien gave him a sympathetic smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFuck indeed … History turns on small hinges, Mr O\u2019Donnell. Never underestimate waste management.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien clasped his hands behind his back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou have, as is customary, two options.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He gestured with his clipboard toward the hooded figure, who was now meticulously rotating a bin to hide a scratch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Option One<\/strong>: Confront the individual.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cImmediate justice! Righteous indignation! And the guaranteed ignition of a feud that will outlive us all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Option Two:<\/strong> Remain silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAllow the entropy to spread. Let innocent neighbours shoulder fines they did not earn. Watch as the delicate fabric of community trust frays like an old dishcloth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael pressed both hands to his face. \u201cWhy is this my problem?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien shrugged. \u201cCosmic probability. You have the ideal temperament for lesser-evil decision-making.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI absolutely do not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien patted his shoulder with the sympathy of a doctor breaking unwelcome news.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid you do, Mr O\u2019Donnell. You\u2019re shaping up to be a natural.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The hooded figure was two houses down now, performing a suspiciously elegant three-point turn with Mrs Baker\u2019s recycling bin. Every movement suggested this was not their first illicit round.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien stood beside Michael with the patient resignation of someone supervising a toddler learning to operate a chainsaw.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell,\u201d he said pleasantly, \u201cgo on, then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael turned. \u201cGo on what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cConfront him. You\u2019ve already made the decision internally. One can always tell.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien tapped his clipboard. \u201cYour heart rate has increased, your jaw has clenched, and you\u2019re muttering the word \u2018unbelievable\u2019 under your breath like a secular prayer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI am not muttering,\u201d Michael muttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But he was already moving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael strode down the pavement with righteous energy, stopping only once to adjust his slipper, because committing to heroism in SpongeBob SquarePants bedroom slippers is difficult.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOi!\u201d he called out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The hooded figure froze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then, very slowly, turned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They looked\u2026 startled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Caught out schoolboy energy but wrapped in a grown adult\u2019s body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael stopped in front of him, chest heaving more from nerves than effort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat,\u201d Michael said, pointing at the nearest bin, \u201cdo you think you\u2019re doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man blinked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then said, with a confidence he absolutely had not earned:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael gestured at the bin lid he was still holding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And the half-shoved rubbish bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And the fact that the bag said \u201cProperty of Harper\u2019s Fine Foods\u201d in large letters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man swallowed. \u201c\u2026Recycling?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s general waste.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael folded his arms. \u201cWhy are you stuffing your rubbish in everyone else\u2019s bins?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man hesitated, then blurted:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBecause my wife watches the bin levels!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael blinked. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe says I generate too much waste!\u201d he said, panicked now. \u201cShe says I\u2019m irresponsible! That I snack too much! She measures the bags! She counts them!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n His voice cracked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe counts them, mate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael opened his mouth no words came out. This was worse and a little sadder than expected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man sagged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI just\u2026 I just don\u2019t want her knowing how much I eat after she goes to bed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Behind him, Lucien murmured, \u201cAh, yes. A classic domestic behavioural suppression cascade. Nasty business. Very common in suburban Britain. Usually ends in either divorce or a composting obsession.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael shot him a look.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien pretended to study a hydrangea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael turned back to the man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLook\u2026 you can\u2019t keep doing this. People are going to get council fines. Actual, real fines. With paperwork. And the neighbours will turn on each other like feral pigeons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man winced. \u201cI know, I know! But I panicked. And then I couldn\u2019t stop. It became\u2026 like a system. A routine. An underground operation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s bins not Mission Impossible and you are NOT Tom Cruise\u201d Michael said flatly. \u201cYou\u2019re a bin space burglar.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man wilted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd after I tell the others …. \u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man went white.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTell the…….no, no, please don\u2019t! Please! My wife will ….\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He swallowed hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe\u2019ll make me do composting seminars again.\u201d He paused, \u201cThere will be pamphlets!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael tried not to imagine what that meant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He exhaled. Long and slow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFine,\u201d he said at last. \u201cI won\u2019t tell anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man sagged with such relief he nearly fell onto the bin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBut,\u201d Michael continued sharply, \u201cyou will take every one of those bags back. Every single one. Today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man nodded vigorously. \u201cYes. Yes. Absolutely. I will retrieve all contraband waste.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd,\u201d Michael added, \u201cyou will stop doing this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI will. I swear on my life. And on my compost caddy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael made a face. \u201cPlease don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The man hurried away, already dragging a neighbour\u2019s bin back toward his own house with frantic repentance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien stepped up beside Michael, nodding with clinical interest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell done,\u201d he said. \u201cNot perfect, but nothing ever is. A reasonable balance between confrontation and mercy. CAP would classify this as a Lesser Evil Grade B.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cB?\u201d Michael echoed. \u201cI nearly got assaulted by a wheelie bin while wearing slippers!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes,\u201d Lucien said. \u201cAnd you stayed calm. Remarkable, really.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael frowned. \u201cWhat do I do now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucien smiled, immaculate and infuriating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNow? You wait. CAP will be in touch when the next ethically appalling situation arises.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He glanced up and down the street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIn this neighbourhood? Shouldn\u2019t be long.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then with the faintest pop of displaced air, he was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Michael turned and walked slowly back to his front door, he thought “fuck” again and then followed up with “I am thinking that a lot lately”<\/p>\n\n\n\n He made a coffee and waiting for Lucien and his shiny brogues to appear again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
<\/strong>Consultant Lesser-Evilist
“I will keep you on the less immoral path or your money back”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n
Agathokakological is probably not a word you have heard or seen before, and do not worry you are not alone in that, it means “composed of both good and evil” . CAP is the group of representatives that you can think of as the “Auditors of the lesser of two evils<\/em>“<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
Almost completely full.
Which was odd, because he hadn\u2019t put anything in it since Tuesday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Suspiciously full.
Uniformly full.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
opened Mrs Patel\u2019s bin,
deposited a heavy bag,
patted them down like tucking a child into bed,
closed the lid,
glanced around, then moved on to the next house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n