Word: Periphrasis

            

periphrasis

\ puh-RIF-ruh-sis \  , noun;

1. the use of an unnecessarily long or roundabout form of expression; circumlocution.

2. an expression phrased in such fashion.

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    Mr. Valens sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, lifting his large glasses out of the way to do so.  The small man in front of him wrung his hands nervously.

                “Say that again, please.”  Mr. Valens said.

                “O-oh yes, o-f course.  You see, my new engine prototype uses an experimental fission/fusion reactor to break down the molecular structure of keratin, melanin, and the like to produce a highly energetic reaction.”  The man said hopefully.  The repetition did not help Mr. Valens’ understanding of what was being said.

                “Again, please.  And this time, use words I can actually understand.”

                “W-what?”

                “In, let’s say, ten words or less, tell me what your device does.”

                “O-oh, right.  Um, it’s an engine that uses hair as fuel.”

                “There we go.  That, I understood.  Now then, Mr. Teller, tell me a bit more about this engine.  Like, what’s the mileage?”

                “Oh yes, you see, since the engine uses a high efficiency reaction, it can produce a vast amount of energy out of..”  Mr. Teller started.  Mr. Valens interrupted his explanation by raising a hand.

                “Keep it simple, please.  What’s the mileage?”

                “Uh, right now it can run about thirty miles off one ounce of hair.”  Mr. Teller looked disappointed that he had been forced to cut his explanation short.

                “Good, good.  That’s not too bad, but hair only grows so fast.  Right now, it’s much faster and easier to just get regular gas.”

                “Y-yes, well.  That’s only right now.  With enough time and funding, I can greatly…”

                Once again, Mr. Teller was interrupted.  This time, Mr. Valens did so by holding both his hands out and bringing them together slowly.  Mr. Teller understood the gesture’s meaning right away and stopped to think.  This mouth twitched as bit, as he so desperately wanted to say everything on his mind on the subject.  He forced himself to keep it concise though.   

                “With enough funds and time, I can make it much more efficient.  I can probably even get it into the triple digits off one ounce of hair.  Plus, I can probably get it to run off finger and toe nails, and probably even dead skin.”

                “Dead skin?  That’s a bit grim, isn’t it?  Do you really think people will go for that?”

                “Oh, no doubt, sir.  You see, the human body…”  Mr. Valens peered over the top of his glasses, cutting Mr. Teller’s long winded, round about explanation short.  He focused his thoughts and continued.  “We shed off dead skin all the time without our noticing.  Just by touching something we get rid of dead skin cells.  Theoretically, I might even be able to make it so just rubbing the steering wheel will gain enough skin to fuel the car for a few miles.”

                “Really now?  Well, that is exciting.  How long do you think it’ll take to get all this up and running?”

                Mr. Teller opened his mouth, but closed it quickly.  There was quite a bit he could say on the matter, but given how Mr. Valens reacted to his full explanations, he restrained himself.

                “To get the engine running of nails and hair, one year maximum.  Two to three to increase the efficiency.  Another year or two to set up the entire system, including the steering wheel collection.  Of course, this is just an estimate.”

                  “So, roughly four to seven years?”  Mr. Valens said.  He leaned back in his large office chair and thought about the time table.  “I can live with that.  Although, I’m a little nervous about that fission thing.  Isn’t it dangerous?”  He asked, eyeing Mr. Teller in a way that told the small man to keep it simple.

                “No, it’s not.  There’s nothing radioactive about what’s being used, so there’s really no danger.  In fact, it could even be safer than gasoline.”

                “Wonderful, wonderful.  I believe this engine idea could be very profitable for this company.  I’ll approve further research.”  Mr. Teller’s eyes lit up when Mr. Valens said those words.  “Now then, let’s talk budget.  Any ideas?”

                “N-no, sir, I have no idea how much this endeavor will cost.”

                “Fine, fine.  Hm, let’s start with, oh, let’s say, five hundred.”

                “F-five hundred dollars?”  Mr. Teller knew it would cost more than that for sure.

                “Hundred?  Ha!  No, I mean five hundred million.  Sounds a bit better, doesn’t it?”

                Mr. Teller’s eyes widened.  He had just been offered more money than he had amassed during his entire life.  The fact that it could only be spent to further develop his engine was beside the point.

                “O-oh yes.  Yes, that should do very well, sir.”

                “Good.  Now, contact your lawyer and we’ll draw up a contract.  I’ll give you a standard ten year research position, during which you will devote yourself to this project.  Is that alright?”

                “Yes, sir.”

                “Great.  You can leave now.  Come back in, oh, three days with your lawyer and we’ll hammer out the details.”

                “Yes, sir.  I’ll do that, sir.  Thank you, sir.”  Mr. Teller kept talking even as he left the large office. 

                Mr. Valens watched the man leave.  He smiled once he was alone.  People like that were so easy to take advantage of.  This was going to be very profitable indeed. 

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An engine like this would solve a lot of problems, wouldn't it?  Could someone maybe get on making one?  I would, but I have no idea what goes into making things like this.  Just be careful who you end up dealing with.