Saturday, August 21, 2010

A Sequence of Unpalatable Events


Time is fleeting, so I shall just present you with this brief series of minor calamities that have plagued me (so far) this week:

Sunday, 18:57 - Rifling through the freezer looking for something to have for dinner, I thought I saw a bag of peas move all by itself. Poking the peas with a lolly revealed a pair of eyes peering back at me from behind a garlic baguette. It seems we have a very small yeti living in our freezer.

Monday, 19:17 - I hear a faint scream of pain as I cut a ciabatta in half. After checking that the SubCs are OK, I resume the cutting, thinking that I must have imagined it. Another scream puts paid to the imagination theory. After a very close inspection of the ciabatta, I discover that it is, in fact, just a bread product after all. Slamming the bread knife down in frustration reveals the whereabouts and identity of the screamer: There was a wood nymph in the chopping board!


Tuesday, 03:46 - Three nannies land on the roof. How do I know this? Because of all the clattering and banging around, not to mention swearing that would make a sailor blush.
And not one of them was as graceful as that evil witch Poppins. Moom was barking, SP was swearing and the gargoyles were lumbering about trying to avoid the errant nannies, scraping their stone feet, knuckles and tails across the tiles making a noise similar to, but louder than, fingernails scraping down a blackboard.
In the far more civilised morning, Moom discovered a brolly wedged in the fireplace and proceeded to shred the fabric from the metal ribs, discarding it all over the living room floor.


Wednesday, 17:33 - Get home from work to discover the landing carpet is very damp. Entering the bathroom provides the reason: Fishface has found out where I now live and taken up residence in the bath again! SP is understandably livid. Bloody naiads.

Thursday, 16:59 - Arrived home twenty minutes later than I'd hoped due to being waylaid by roadworks, only to find out that Svaathor has turned up early (I'd asked him to pop 'round to remove the naiad as he's experienced in such matters) and brought his (very hot) nephew and great niece.
Stunned at Gathiir's incredible good looks and super-fit body (Gathiir is one of the more human-looking Centaurs - Two legs, two arms, but rather horse-like ears and a splendid tail!), I was oblivious to stepping in his daughter's poo until he somewhat apologetically pointed it out. It seems they'd turned up an hour and a half ago but little Calreed couldn't hold on longer than an hour and a quarter.

Friday, 07:56 - SP unwittingly found out where that manticore went a couple of weeks ago.
"Where's the measuring jug?" he yelled from the kichen as I was moisturising in front of the mirror on the landing.
"In the cupboard under the sink" I yelled back, wondering if I had time to pluck my eyebrows.
"I've looked - It's not there" he replied a little testily.
"It bloody is!" I countered, having put it back there after he left it out last month when he used it to fill his car's screen wash up. "It's at the back, behind your flask." I started downstairs then heard an almighty crash.
"Fucking 'ell!" Careering down the rest of the stairs and into the hall, I saw SP brandishing the jug in the face of a now man-sized manticore admidst splintered shelves and bottles of cleaning products.
"Rrrrrrrooooooooooowwwaaarrrrrhhhh!" the beast roared.
With a very plasticky 'clonk', SP hit the manticore over the head with the jug. "Get out!" he almost screamed.
Very surprisingly, the manticore put a very hurt and pathetic look on it's face and it's tail between it's legs before running out of the kitchen, through the sun room and out the front, across the road, disappearing amongst the trees.
"Oh" I said, surveying the mess. "That's where it went."

And Today - To top it all off, that troll must have followed me home and has set up home under the stairs. I found it not an hour ago crouched behind the Dyson stuffing it's face with dog biscuits. I thought they'd been going rather quickly.
Anyway, after everything else that's happened, I just sighed, closed the cupboard door and left it there. I'll warn SP about it later.

But just where in Christmas are all these minor deities and mythological monsters coming from? Did someone turn the Ley-lines up to eleven? What next? A Phoenix in the oven?

Is anyone else being persecuted by preposterous pests?

19 comments:

  1. We used to have a miniature Yeti in the freezer too.

    'Clonk' - I like that word.

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  2. Is anyone else being persecuted by preposterous pests?

    Do Jehovah's Witnesses fit that category?

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  3. You have had a trying time of it...
    But you seem to be managing things beautifully...
    I think that it's time that that troll came out of the cupboard....

    And what may I ask does one feed a miniature yeti? I should have some provisions in store should i too be blessed with one...

    Those horsey people will be marvelous for your garden, have them over more often...

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  4. P&T: Yay! You're back!

    Did you find your yeti ate all your frozen pees?

    MJ: Well, they certainly are pests, I'll give you that.

    Princess: Well, my Yeti seems to be eating peas and sweetcorn. It doesn't like Quorn, though, as it's left a half eaten fillet in the icecube tray.

    I'll certainly be having Gathiir over more often, that's for sure!

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  5. "discovered a brolly wedged in the fireplace"

    Did you accidentally trap Mary Poppins?

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  6. As a Jehovah's Witness myself, Im deeply offended by that truly horrid remark and totally unnecessary remark by that Canuck cunt, MJ.

    Anyway... My Yeti didn't eat my frozen pee, or peas. But I could never find the diced lamb and he was the only suspect. And being a Yeti, he always denied all knowledge of the existence of either himself or the diced lamb.

    Ha! Me a Jehovahs Witness? Could you ever imagine it? They are indeed annoying bastards. Almost as annoying as Canadians.

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  7. We are fascinated by the brolly in the chimney. Spill!

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  8. I have a ghost. It opens kitchen cabinets, throws things on the floor and slams doors all the time.

    It also eats my food and rearranges my DVDs.

    Any suggestions on how to persuade it to haunt my nasty neighbours?

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  9. "Poking the peas with a lolly…"

    Oh yeah, is that what you're calling it these days?

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  10. xl: I did hope so once I saw the remains of the brolly, but, alas, it was not meant to be.

    P&T: Yetis are masters of plausible deniability.

    And you sell yourself short: You are indeed as annoying as a Jehovah's Witness!

    Spike: To tell the truth, there's not a lot to tell. I think the brolly's owner must have cadged a lift with one of the other nannies?
    Unless she was hiding behind the chimney stack when I looked out of the attic window later that morning?

    'Petra: Hmmmm... You could try and persuade it that your neighbours have nicer stuff than you, but I think it'll soon cotton on to the fact that you'd have been lying. It seems you might be stuck with it.
    I just hope it doesn't watch you on the loo!

    Tim: I'll tell you if you let me have a lick of your Rocket.

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  11. I'd have thought you'd have preferred to lick his Fab! All those sweet nobbly bits!

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  12. Thankfully it doesn't follow me to the loo.

    Modest as I am, I don't think my neighbours have nicer things than me. They are quite vile, annoying and have awful footwear.

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  13. By the way, Goldfrapps song rocket takes on a whole other meaning.

    Oh, oh,oh I've got a rocket, oh, oh, oh, you're going on it..

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  14. What an exciting home you have! If the mini Yeti and the wood nymph get to be too much, I'll send the Fur Snake over and she'll hunt and eat them in short order. You might have to fly her in with Broom though so that she avoids quarantine

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  15. Tim: Oh, go on. If you had a Mini-Milk I wouldn't bother.

    'Petras: I think that's true of most neighbours, isn't it?

    As for Goldfrapp's Rocket - I'm sure that strumpet Alison Goldfrapp knew exactly what people would think to her saucily themed song.

    Snooze: Exciting = hard Work, something I find I'm increasingly allergic to.
    I shall consider your offer of Fur Snake for the next such infestation.

    P&T: Snooze's pussy.

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  16. Dear god... I've never quite described the Fur Snake that way.

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  17. I'd start putting those uninvited housemates to work! That yeti can clean the fridge and that nymph can lend a hand cleaning up the kitchen! That troll better start vacuuming the floor and that manticore should be keeping the pests and riff raff out of the garden and home. I'd be sure to keep the horsemen out in the garden and keep their visits to a minimum--a small contribution on their part goes a long way.

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