Chapter 8: All in all, not a good day

The deranged, mad murderer-to-be is very random. “You think you have the wrong house?” I splutter, forgetting I’m carrying things, and a plate drops onto the floor and shatters. The salesman said they were unbreakable…I want my money back. “Do you usually barge into people’s homes waving big knives and randomly licking them?” I pause and think for a while. Maybe she does.

Sproing. That’ll be the doorbell. It broke a couple of months ago and now serves as a nest for ants. I clear them out once in a while by pressing the button. It’s rather fun to see the black things flying everywhere.

The mailman opens the nonexistent door and barges in, carrying a huge box. “Ah, it’s the anti girl-carrying-big-bloody-knife-intent-on-murdering-me deluxe set I ordered,” I say, hoping that gives her a hint.

She leaves, with a cryptic clue. Yay, I love cryptic clues! I run around like Robert Langdon trying to solve them all the time! “Yeah, yeah, leave the door, vase and plate broken,” I call after her. “Thanks for breaking everything. Feel free to come by again.” Gives another meaning to ‘drop by’.

The mailman leaves too. The big box turns out to be something I didn’t order – some random head of the Statue of Liberty plus a three hundred thousand dollar bill which will take me twenty five years to pay off.

Definitely not a good day.