Something was terribly wrong.
The day had begun like any other day. Hopping out of bed and throwing some clothes at myself, hoping enough stuck to at least cover my testicles. Unfortunately, the Good Lady had beaten me to the kitchen and prepared some garbage that she called breakfast and served it up.
It was a blackish sort of muck with an emerald tint, spread out on a Tortilla.
It's Mexican!
She had crowed victoriously as she plopped it down in front of me and the children.
I pushed a fork at it several times in an attempt to make it look like it was being eaten.
The children, being as diplomatic as only children can be both declared it yucky and made disgusted noises at it.
The Good Lady seemed rather narked at this as if it was some kind of surprise.
At least Daddy likes it, don't you, Daddy-Bear?
She turned to me and eyed my fork which continued to prowl around my plate without seeming to ever pick up anything.
I prepared to tell the usual lie about whatever kind of faeces that it was, it tasted amazing but a fey kind of madness seized me and for some reason, I decided to tell the truth and side with the children.
No, actually. It is yucky!
I beamed at her and put my fork down.
Shall I make us all some toast?
I bounded up from the table like a man with an intact foreskin and headed off to the kitchen to make the family some big old slices of toast.
Despite having an intact foreskin, it was hard to get the breakfast cheer going and it wasn't long before we were all done with the toast and I headed up to the attic armed with my coffee to face another day plugging away at the coal-face.
note to my new followers who take many things literally and occasionally tap me up on discord to learn from me - I don't work in a mine or have sex with African ladies in my attic. It's a workplace for goodness sake. It's a metaphorical coalface.
It was shortly after that, that I noticed the terrible wrongness of the day.
I had just come off a call with some posh twits from an expensive consultancy and picked up my coffee cup.
Yaaarghle?!!?
I almost dropped the cup as if it was red-hot.
It wasn't red-hot, however. It was something far far worse.
WOMAN!!! WOMAN!!!!! HELP!!
I yelled with horrified desperation for the Good Lady to come and help save me from the horror that was unfolding in the attic.
There was no answer.
WIFE-WOMAN, THINGYMBOB... DARLING... HELP!?
Still no answer.
The day was taking an exceedingly dark turn.
Holding the Coffee Cup gingerly out at arm's length I tried not to look at it and headed downstairs to see what was wrong with the Good Lady.
Why wasn't she running to my aid when I was so obviously in distress?
I burst into the lounge and looked about frantically.
There she was, sitting in front of the TV watching some show about a skinny red-headed orphan.
She wasn't dead or injured in the slightest.
Hey Chicken-Pie. Didn't you hear me calling for help?
I stood before her trying to look manly which was difficult when I was holding my coffee cup away from me as if it were a diseased kitten.
She looked up, smiling vacantly.
No, is there something wrong, Daddy-Bear?
She asked, affecting a small yawn.
She obviously couldn't see the distress I was in. I prepared to impart the horrifying discovery I had made upstairs in the attic.
Brace yourself, lady. I don't know how it happened or what the hell is going on but I am afraid to say... My Coffee Cup is empty??!
Uneasily, I set it down on a nearby table and looked at it untrustingly as if were a SportsTalkSocial post with more than ten comments on it.
Have you drunk it all? Do you need to make more?
The Good Lady asked.
She obviously didn't get it. This was no ordinary cup of coffee?!!? This was the Magic Cup of Coffee. Ever since I had started working at home I had noticed it. It was never empty and just kept magically filling itself up.
But now it had run dry!?
Something had broken the magic. But what could it have been?
I looked closely at the Good Lady. She was acting odd too. She had flicked Netflix straight back on and was watching that annoying show again. Not even looking at me.
Didnt she get it? I felt like screaming at her...
THE MAGIC COFFEE CUP IS BROKEN?!?
But she was oblivious to my distress.
Then it dawned on me.
It wasn't just the magic Coffee Cup that was broken. The Good Lady seemed to be broken too. Someone or something was behind all of this. But who.. What?
If you are making yourself one put one on for me too will you?
The Good Lady held out her own non Magic Coffee Cup.
Slowly I walked over and took her cup and collected my own from the table. It was still empty.
I headed to the kitchen, shaking my head.
Something was draining the magic from the world.
And I wouldn't rest until I found out what.
