Retribution

I had been gullible enough to believe that my situation could not possibly get any worse, but I was surprised again. As usual I was doing my walk-abouts in the house, while my food was cooking. I went down to the back door to look at the transforming terrain, but I felt something was wrong. For some odd reason I decided to look down on the floor right in front of the door, I spotted a foreign object of some sort. The object was approximately 2 centimetres wide and had a dark and what seemed to be a solid texture. I exhaled lightly and continued to investigate the floor. My worst fears were now a reality. Numerous of alien objects similar to the one I had spotted only seconds ago were piled up randomly like some abstract new-age art piece. Like those you saw on television, where some rich closet homosexual was willing to pay an insane amount of money to own and bragged about at his cocktail parties. It was dog crap. The culprit was likely the new dog, and I could only imagine that it was lying now in its basket chuckling at me and my new discovery. This was the dog's retribution. Its payback for having been harassed by me. Who knows, perhaps I deserved it. The battle between man and beast should be a two-way street. One thing was for sure though. I couldn't go downstairs no more. The seed that the dog had planted would only encourage the swampland to spread into the house. It wouldn't be long before it would be risky and somewhat hazardous get out of bed, because inside there were not enough flies to help you. For now I had to leave the premises, or I would risk being asked to clean it up, like with the incident of the cat crap in the living room. I had to cover my tracks thoroughly.
My plan was to turn off the lights, tiptoe away from the scene of the crime and quickly think of a solid alibi. I needed to think of something coherent and plausible. Another clash with the room mate would undoubtedly unleash my bottled up frustration upon her, and she would not comprehend this, because unlike me she doesn't mind living in an animal cesspool. No, It was to a mutual benefit that things remained calm as possible
Tables had shifted for sure. This blow, this attack, this comeback from that little dog had been swift and subtle. It had come out from the shadows and crapped with ninja-like stealth and disappeared. Something had to be done. I needed to mentally regroup and lay out a new strategy. I wasn't about to let that son of a bitch win this war. No four-legged creature should have the pleasure of pushing Edward T. Shufflebottom over the edge. It would not and could not happen. Soon enough I would know how to deal with that miniature bastard.

My food was finally ready, and I decided to eat my dinner in the living room. It had become a haven since the cats and dogs weren't allowed in there anymore. As I sat down, I instinctively investigated the floor. My experience earlier had made me a bit paranoid. Animals were full of surprises, I couldn't be too careful now. I noticed something else. It was pool of some substance. I suspected it at first to be feline urine, but as I investigated further, the pool appeared to be way too big to have been left there by a man even. Also the texture appeared to be more solid, like some sort of glue. It looked like a horse had jerked off and left in hurry to catch its next race. Panic seized me, and I took my food to the dinning room. I ate quietly while trying to think of an alibi that would unlink me from being the first to discover the dog crap and the mysterious pool in the living room.

Good God, here I was in this house that was slowly into an animal cesspool, an unknown substance with horse semen characteristics and a rogue dog with desires of revenge. Things were definitely not improving. I could only pray that I would make it through this phase in my life in one piece and not become mentally crippled. For now things were a bit calmer than usual, but danger was still out there. What would happen next?

Edward T. Shufflebottom