Saturday, May 9, 2015

Something was wrong

There was a log on the fire. 
A wooden log.
That's the first thing that made me think something was wrong. 

The second thing was that the fire was in the living room.
On a table. 
A wooden table. 

We were already at two things that made me think something was wrong. 

But thinking is not knowing. 

The third thing that made me think that something might be wrong was that there were seventeen people around the fire chanting 'kill the resident, kill the resident, kill the resident'.
Seventeen adult people.
Which is the oldest category of people around.
Unless you count sub-classes.

The forth thing that made me think something may be wrong was that I WAS the resident.

Now I know what you're thinking.
'You didn't know that you were a resident before you heard that?'
Also 
'You noticed the log on the fire before you noticed the seventeen chanters?'

Well I have a powerful response to that. 

The fifth thing that made me think something was wrong was that I observed that my noticing things was a little off. 
Wayward even. 

The sixth thing that made me think something was wrong was that if I observed that my noticing things was tad off, wayward even, then clearly my observation skills were as strong as ever, so perhaps I was being a little judgmental of my own skills. 

There was ambiguity. Ambiguity isn't knowing. Why feel bad when the thing you are feeling bad about isn't even definitely true?

The seventh thing that made me think something was wrong was that there was a noose hanging from the rafters.  With three bloody slain goats hanging around it with the blood dripping into a giant pit in the shape of pentagram. 

'Seriously you noticed the log before you noticed that'? I hear you asking. 

Well I have a powerful response to that. 

The eighth thing that made me think something was wrong was that the fire had given off smoke, and some of that had gotten into my eyes, which were now a tad watery! Which although was unpleasant, was a bit of a relief as it was another sign that there was a chance that while my noticing skills were a tad askew, wayward even, my observational skills were still potentially fine. 

Less of a relief however was that I now had eight things that made me think something was wrong. I have a stern rule in my life 'while thinking is not knowing, if there are eight signs of something, then it's ok to get worried and/ or excited, depending on the nature of the thing in question'. 

I don't like getting worried so I chose to get excited! So I joined the chanting, and we hung a rat which was also a resident. It was tough because they have little necks. But his final words were pretty inspiring: 

'I'm ready to go, all the cheese is melted anyway, and I prefer mine raw'.

So it all worked out in the end. Other than my half my house burning down, and them all leaving it to me to clean up the pentagram. But on the plus side, goat and rat kababs for everyone! With MELTED cheese!
 

Into the eye

I delved into the eye of the bubble storm. 
Conjured by The Bubble Storm Conjurer!
A man who's only dream was to be named after something that he'd literally done.
He was a success. 
And despite the happy laughing playing children. 
He was not actually evil.