At home on Rochester. Well, not really a home, since I don't have a place for Tookie in it. (Tookie's like my friend or something. We get along good and try to keep Brakky safe from flying spaghetti monsters and stuff. She has a Mini Razor thing, but I don't know why. We haven't shaved any midgets recently.) So it was more like a place for me to put stuff and sleep in. Sometimes take a bath. I was trying to take a bath now, anyways.
I'd just settled into the tub for a nice, long bath when the slamming started. It sounded like some lunatic was running down the corridor, opening doors and then slamming them shut again, As the thuds got closer, I heard loud and indistinct shouts perforating the opening and the slamming. I sighed. It was going to be one of those days. You know the kind, where absolutely nothing goes right except to go wrong. I got out of the tub, toweled off lightly and wrapped it around me. I turned to leave the bathroom and slammed into the door.
WHO THE FISH HAD LEFT IT HALF OPEN?
I slammed it open, stomped through (it came back and hit me!), and tripped over a carelessly placed shoe (totally not mine). Had to hop a few steps before I got to the kitchenette (more like a stove stuffed into a dishwasher shoved into a microwave stuffed into a refrigerator. Nobody wants to call it a Stovawashewavytor though), but I grabbed the conveniently placed frying pan, burning my wrist on the stovetop in the process. NOBODY interrupts my bath! Hell hath no fury like...Well, okay, I was just mad, is all. The slamming reached my neighbor. I heard a "*mumble*...Sorry. NEXT!" and then MY door was opening.
"Jen..." BOOM, HEADSHOT! Wait...that person looks familiar.
Oh. Oh fish. It's Brakky! So I said so. "Brakky! Oh, oh fish, Brakky, I'm sorry!" Then I started to cry, and my hand and my wrist and my face and my foot started hurting again and Brakky was on the floor broken and things and it was AWFUL. I dragged him into the living tiny-little-box-that-pretends-it-is-a-room-but-it-isn't, flopped him on the couch-that-is-tiny, fixed the rug that got a bit mussed, then frowned at everything in particular.
I really need to finish my bath, but Brakky needed a band-aid first. I found a little Space Jumper Happy Bear one in the closet under my toolkit (don't ask), but the glue was all worn off. I found some more glue in the dishwasher (Look, just...don't ask. I have a system.) and tried to put it on Brakky's face. He was screaming and yelling and saying that he didn't need a band-aid over his eyes, and definitely not attached like a Magic-Life-Mask, but I managed to hold him down long enough to stick it to him!
I'm so happy. He'll be okay now.
"Brakky! You're okay! But...What are you doing here?"
Then I realized I needed to fix my towel. At least he couldn't see me with the band-aid over his eyes though.
Today sucks.
Oh yeah, and he's got blisters from the frying pan now.
