For those of you who don't know the Washing Machine from Hell story
So a long time ago in the small town of Albia, there lived an adolescent by the name of Nick. This pitiable boy had few friends, making the 7th year of school infuriating. Still there were a few who would associate with him and this is one such tale.
You could often find the boy at his home, the yellow house at the end of G Avenue, playing a current popular video game of the month, gorging on ice cream novelties from the Swan Man. For the Swan Man knew how to prey upon the insecurities of the pre-adolescent. That is a story for another time.
When one person feast upon mint chocolate chip ice cream cones, the over indulgence in dairy causes havoc on that persons digestive system. Now the boy's room is located in the basement of the yellow house, because of refurbishing, a place he could call his own was created with a adjacent bathroom and laundry room.
Now why if there is a bathroom so near does the kid retreat upstairs to use the toilet. Could it be because when ever the kid is home alone, which he often found himself every Wednesday for bowling night, he would catch a glimpse of a shadow from the corner of his eye, but when you looked directly at it, vanished. Perhaps this is the reason. Or the plethora of spiders that lived in the corners.
Before he could make it upstairs the laundry chore beckoned to be finished. Now the clothing in the washer he had leisurely time to go upstairs and become comfortable with the porcelain throne, with Nintendo Power in hand.
Able to lose oneself in their passions, they become less aware of there surroundings. So it is quite easy to become startled. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. From within the walls. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Little time to evacuate. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Grab the phone on off the wall on the way out. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Standing out by the mail box, farest point from the house. The kid calls his friend Tim, hysterical at what just occurred.
Now this Tim kid has only know Nick for a year or two. A chance meeting of minds in the lunch line. Butt nuggets and butt cheese covered in butt cream with butt crust pie for desert was for lunch that day. (Inside joke.) Still Tim was compassionate enough to listen to the kids story, although not compassionate enough not to laugh at his misfortune. Once he had the kid calm enough to reenter the house to further investigate. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. It still continued. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Coming from the basement. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Coming from the laundry room. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. The washing machine was off balanced. With the push of a knob peace is restored to the yellow house, but not to the kids pride. All thanks to the washing machine from hell.
You could often find the boy at his home, the yellow house at the end of G Avenue, playing a current popular video game of the month, gorging on ice cream novelties from the Swan Man. For the Swan Man knew how to prey upon the insecurities of the pre-adolescent. That is a story for another time.
When one person feast upon mint chocolate chip ice cream cones, the over indulgence in dairy causes havoc on that persons digestive system. Now the boy's room is located in the basement of the yellow house, because of refurbishing, a place he could call his own was created with a adjacent bathroom and laundry room.
Now why if there is a bathroom so near does the kid retreat upstairs to use the toilet. Could it be because when ever the kid is home alone, which he often found himself every Wednesday for bowling night, he would catch a glimpse of a shadow from the corner of his eye, but when you looked directly at it, vanished. Perhaps this is the reason. Or the plethora of spiders that lived in the corners.
Before he could make it upstairs the laundry chore beckoned to be finished. Now the clothing in the washer he had leisurely time to go upstairs and become comfortable with the porcelain throne, with Nintendo Power in hand.
Able to lose oneself in their passions, they become less aware of there surroundings. So it is quite easy to become startled. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. From within the walls. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Little time to evacuate. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Grab the phone on off the wall on the way out. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Standing out by the mail box, farest point from the house. The kid calls his friend Tim, hysterical at what just occurred.
Now this Tim kid has only know Nick for a year or two. A chance meeting of minds in the lunch line. Butt nuggets and butt cheese covered in butt cream with butt crust pie for desert was for lunch that day. (Inside joke.) Still Tim was compassionate enough to listen to the kids story, although not compassionate enough not to laugh at his misfortune. Once he had the kid calm enough to reenter the house to further investigate. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. It still continued. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Coming from the basement. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Coming from the laundry room. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. The washing machine was off balanced. With the push of a knob peace is restored to the yellow house, but not to the kids pride. All thanks to the washing machine from hell.
0 Replies:
Post a Comment
<< Home