Huh??
I paused in mid-manful-stride from the Kitchen to the lounge.
There was something wrong. It was in the air, making my skin prickle with a yawning horror as if I had pulled on a shirt made of crudely sewn together lambs penises and too late noticed that some of them were still alive.
What is it??
I slowly turned on the spot to see what had piqued my spidey-sense. A sense in fact, that I was not aware I had had until that moment, despite the number of times I had issued sticky white stuff from my body,
This was odd. I could see nothing out of the ordinary?
I was in the lounge a couple of steps away from the doorway that led to the Kitchen.
The lounge looked as if a Giant had eaten several tons of children's toys and explosively shat them out on the floor but sadly, that was not unusual.
The kitchen looked like the kitchen. Nothing untoward.
I peered at the only thing left.
The doorway. Could that be what was wrong?
I took a hesitating step toward it. Yes, this was it. There was something wrong with the doorway but what?
Then it hit me. I gasped out loud and my mouth worked up and down frantically as if I was in a Vegan cafe eating falafel.
What in the name of fuck?! Where was the fucking door?!?!
I reached a hand out disbelievingly and stroked the door frame where our tatty old kitchen door had once proudly hung.
The frame was smooth. Unnaturally so. It looked like someone had filled it and painted over it?
I made a face as if I had added a whole egg instead of just the yolk to my flan mix.
The very thought was horrifying but it had to be faced.
Someone had stolen our door.
Some ape-like man-thing had come in the dead of the night and stolen our fucking door?
I needed help, big-style.
Mummy-Bear? MUMMY-BEAR, COME QUICK!!! HURRY!!!
I yelled.
What? What is it?
The Good Lady came padding into the lounge and stared at me the same way I stare at people eating figs.
Look!! LOOK! The door is missing!
I poked my finger pointily at the gap where once a door lived.
See? See?!
The Good Lady let out a small laugh at my distress.
Oh, that? Yeah, I took it off. Remember we talked about it once?
She tossed her hair casually back over her shoulder as she spoke as if telling George Clooney that she had remarkably small toes.
You did what? You took the door off?
I sputtered disbelievingly.
Did she think me an imbecile? Was she yanking my chain? Was I being punkd? If so, Ashton bloody Kutcher was heading for a sound kick in the haw maws.
Yes, I took it off. And I filled the gaps with that filler stuff and painted over it. Did a pretty good job I think... Why do you look so surprised?
She looked closely at me.
Oh hang on... Don't tell me you were thinking it was a 'man's job' and that no one else could possibly do it?
She arched an eyebrow at me and put a hand on her hip like some kind of door-removing super-woman.
I drew myself up to my full height and sniffed deeply in through my nose.
Of course not.
I lied masterfully.
That would be just plain silly to think something like that.
