Monday 26 August 2013

Ghost gerbil


 I thought Gerbil DeVice* was dead.

Gerbil DeVice. Dead to the world after a long day chewing cardboard loo-roll tubes.

 Turns out it was just really fast asleep. I'm glad really, as I don't want another ghost-gerbil incident...

~ cue wobbly soap opera-style flashback effect ~

 We arrive approximately 25 years ago in the family home of The Host, The Sisters DeVice and The Parents. Specifically, in the living room, upon a large, brown, corduroy settee where the aforemention Host and Sisters are sat in front of the telly:

 "But it's true!" Inexcuseable protested with more than a hint of whine in her voice (Don't worry, it was non-alcoholic, after all, she was only about eight).
 "Then why hasn't anyone but you seen it?" I asked her, scratching my arm absently. Indescribable just sat gormlessly glued to the telly, oblivious to the heated conversation going on next to her.
 "Because they lived under the piano in the dining room!" This statement could not really be argued with as the dining room was barely used what with housing the Infernal Piano of Doom and all.
 "What do you mean 'they lived'?"
 "Well" and the way she said 'well' followed by a deep breath meant that she had a long and somewhat preposterous story coming up. "I accidently dropped one of the gerbils an' it was pregant an' it exscaped into the dining room an' it went under the piano an' it had its babies an' the ones it didn't eat sucked her dry 'cos she didn't have any food to make more milk an' I couldn't catch them an' then they died an' now their little skellingtons are under the piano an' I've seen them. So there."
 My mind finished off respelling words adding punctuation marks to Inexcuseable's outburst but before I could reply, Indescribable bashed me in the ribs with her elbow. "Oi!" I yelled.
 "Shh! Telly" she muttered, rubbing the top of her leg though her rah-rah skirt and inadvertantly elbowed me again.
 I scratched the tickle on my arm again as I tried to remember what I was going to say, then an itch on my thigh distracted me further. Suddenly remembering what it was, I turned to Inexcuseable only to see her looking at me with a smug look slapped across her face. "What?" I demanded.
 "Y'know how when you kill a spider or fly or sumfing an' then afterwards the itches you get are their ghosts tormentin' you?" she answered but didn't say any more, clearly wanting an acknowledgement from me.
 "Yee-es?"
 "Well, I can prove the gerbil exscaped." My mind respelled some more.
 "Go on then!"
 "Look through the real to see the spider-ghosts" she said.
 "But we haven't killed any since finding out about their ghosts" I replied, slightly mystified.
 "Just do it!" she demanded.
 I sighed and then relented, focusing my sight through what was real and out the other side. And jumped. "Jinkies!" (we watched a lot of Scooby Doo).
 Crawling over the three of us were the faded little ghosts of two young gerbils. They scampered across our legs and over our arms, scrabbled up Indescribable's bat-wing jumper and jumped across our shoulders.   
 Breaking through her TV-induced stupor for a brief moment, still oblivious to what was happening around her, Indescribable announced: "T-Bag and the Revenge of the T-Set is on next", and we all settled down to watch the show, hoping that the irritating Sally Simpkins would get her comeuppance, and forgetting all about the fading ghostly gerbils.


~ cue an even wobblier flashforward effect ~

 Actually, after looking back, I think that's the real reason Indescribable palmed Gerbil DeVice off on me: She didn't want to deal with its little ghost! She obviously wasn't that oblivious after all.


 Bugger.
     
 
"Blasted invisible barrier! Why isn't this rodent scared of me?"

Bah!


* Yep. You won, LX!

4 comments:

  1. YIKES! I WON SOMETHING!

    [faints]

    ReplyDelete
  2. ~ wafts smelling salts under the prone LX's nose ~

    ReplyDelete
  3. LX won something?

    Has Hell frozen over?

    ReplyDelete
  4. I'd be very afraid of winning ghostly spiders... I have now started itching.
    Sx

    ReplyDelete

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