The Order of The Secret Flower met each week in an old house at the end of the street.
It was a very secret organisation, as most of the members didn’t know which flower they were being secretive about.
Not that they were bothered by that, a trivial matter to the mind of most of the members, of which there were four.
And four chaps whom one would never think of as the sharpest tacks in the box.
But they loved the idea of being a secret organisation. No one outside of themselves knew about them, and they liked that.
They were neighbours and so one afternoon while sharing a chat over one of the members front fence they decided to formalise their meetings and meet in the old house at the end of the street for no other reason that it looked the ideal place for a secret organisation, and it belonged to one of the member’s Great Aunt who was away on a permanent holiday aboard a cruise ship frozen somewhere in the Antarctic Ocean a little south of where they actually should have been.
Not wishing to jinx their meetings they each adopted a name they were sure no one would know nor understand.
One of them had read the Crucible by Arthur Miller and thought it would be good if they were all to use the word Goodie in front of their names. The three other members who hadn’t read the Crucible thought it was a stupid idea.
Debate on their names raged throughout the first meeting night.
By the end of the meeting they had decided that they would be known as Sillyplus, Sillyminor, Sillysub and Sillydiv all names chosen, as they seriously thought no one would consider them real names.
At their second meeting, they enthusiastically embraced the notion of a greeting, so secret only each member would recognise it. If they greeted each other in the street and one heard the call: Silly silly ding-dong, they’d know they were close up with a fellow member.
They did everything they could think of that secret organisation should have. They tried several secret handshakes, the palm tickle ending up the most preferred.
They even invented reasons for their attendance at the meeting so their wives would never guess what they were up to. Putting out the cat, buying a late night coffee, emptying the garbage compactor and having to go back to work to attend an emergency.
Everything worked perfectly. The meetings were orderly once they had agreed on their name, greeting and secret names. They took it in turns to run the meetings and vowed never to reveal to a single soul their very existence.
At one meeting they asked each other what they wanted to do as a secret organisation and they all came to the consensus that being a secret organisation was a full-time job in itself.
So they did just that. Membership was closed, and they contented themselves believing it was a noble cause being a secret organisation.