The Real Thing by Brian Falkner Read Free Book Online Page A

side of the table.
    The tall man, Mr Fairweather, indicated to Tupai and Fizzer that they should sit down in front of the tumblers, but it was Mr Pansier who spoke.
    ‘Reports are that you have quite a discerning palate when it comes to soft drinks.’
    Fizzer nodded. It seemed easier than talking in front of all these important-looking executives in their dark suits.
    ‘Naturally we are a little sceptical,’ Mr Pansier continued, ‘but if it turns out to be true, then your talents could possibly have a small practical application in some new field trials that we are planning.’
    Tupai and Fizzer looked at each other. They may have been young, naïve and from a small country at the bottom of the world, but neither was foolish enough to believe that they had been whisked away from New Zealand at a moment’s notice and were now standing in front of a bunch of high-powered executives just because Fizzer might be able to assist with a field trial.
    Mr Pansier’s manner was friendly, but there was a small bite of disbelief in his voice. ‘If what is claimed about you is true, then you’ll be able to pass this simple test we have prepared for you.’
    He indicated the tumblers.
    ‘All of these glasses contain cola drinks. One of them contains our own product, Coca-Cola. We’d like you to see if you can identify it.’
    They’re not glasses, Fizzer thought, they’re plastic tumblers, but he nodded anyway.
    ‘Take your time,’ Mr Pansier said, meaning that Fizzer should start.
    ‘Could I have a glass of water?’ Fizzer asked. ‘And a bucket? Oh, and a pen and some paper.’
    There was a small delay while these were fetched, during which Fizzer noticed a small, discrete smile trickle out from the face of Anastasia, just a few sparklers, not the full fireworks display, as if she had suggested this herself earlier but had been overruled.
    Tupai folded his arms and tried to look like a bouncer because he was a bit nervous and had nothing much else to do.
    When the water arrived, Fizzer took a sip, rinsed it around inside his mouth, then spat it into the bucket. It seemed a crass thing to do in front of high-powered executives in such a posh boardroom, and he caught a disapproving glance from Mr Pansier, but Anastasia winked at him and he relaxed and smiled back at her.
    Fizzer went quickly down the line of drinks, watching the bubbles, sniffing the tumblers, sampling the drinks, rinsing his mouth between each one, pretty much the same routine as at the Glenfield school fair. The main difference was the notes that he jotted down on the supplied notepad as he went. He finished the last sample, rinsed his mouth for a final time, and sat down studying his notes.
    ‘Any luck?’ Mrs Whitaker asked gently.
    There was a silence, during which even Tupai began to look doubtful.
    Mr Pansier crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head sceptically.
    Eventually Fizzer looked up. He said quietly, ‘These drinks have been sitting here too long. You should have waited for me to arrive before you poured them.’
    Mr Pansier started to say something but stopped as Fizzer continued firmly, ‘Also, you served them in plastic tumblers. You should have used paper. You can taste the plastic. However …’
    He looked around the table, then back down at his notes.
    ‘You have also lied to me, saying that only one of these drinks was Coca-Cola.’
    Mr Pansier looked indignant, but caught a menacing glare from Tupai, whose menacing glares would frighten a wild animal, and said nothing.
    Fizzer continued. ‘They’re all Coca-Cola, except for the last one which is Diet-Coke. The first three are out of a can, the first two of which were poured quickly, but the third one was left to sit in the can for a while before it was poured. Number four is from a small plastic bottle, about a half litre bottle, I’m not sure if you use the same sized bottles here as we do in New Zealand. Number five is from the same sized bottle,