Since the day we moved in here at 2171, there's been an ominous stain in the ceiling above our refrigerator. From day to day it's grown exponentially worse, developing from a piss-pouch into a nasty crack that's been known to spit Spackle into my eyeballs. Concern has continued to grow in the 4 + months of our occupancy. Repeated calls have been made to our friend and landlord, Emily, and while the culprit hole in our roof was mended some time ago, the increasingly insidious lesion in the plaster over our heads has gone unchecked. Today, however, the Universe decided that the time for the debris-downpour was at hand.
We now face dangers yet unseen by man, as a chasm in the very fabric of reality hangs over our house. Specters from beyond our dimension now have free roam over our kitchen and adjacent domiciles, keeping Matt and I on an ever-vigilant watch for the paranormal."Hell's Kitchen" would be an appropriate title. Devotees will remember that our most perilous adventure to date, the one with Tuco the Rat, also happened in the kitchen. This does not bode well.
Now, I'm off to clean up all this cosmic excrement, to hopefully clear-out a path to the fridge. I feel certain that we'll be in need of "cold beers" tonight.
I fucking hate Tuesdays.
1 comment:
Y'know how there are holy places on this planet, like Stonehenge?
I think your kitchen is located on the opposite: an ancient & cursed burial ground. Sorry 'bout that. The good news is that we're working on the physical manifestation of the curse- the roof and ceiling- but the bad news is you might need a priest.
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