muffinstud wrote:"I'll have your rent tomorrow, I just have to cash my paycheck." It might help if he actually got a paycheck tomorrow... "And as for the carpet stains, I'm taking care of them." The skin on Ray's hand was completely gone now, and each of his fingers started doing their impressions of swiss army knives. He glanced at the potpourri of metal and nervously laughed. "Ha! Erm, I have a stash of Coke somewhere in here. I hear it gets oil stains right out." He definitely looks more nervous now.
"Coke? The way you're twitching, it's more like crack." Mrs. Crabcake points an elderly yet authoritative finger in Ray's face. "And don't you even think of pouring more crap onto my floors! If you don't get a professional cleaner in here soon, I will. And you're paying for every red cent, young man." She whips the finger out of Ray's face to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear and gives him a stern look. "Don't you agree?"
Ray gulps. The hand behind the door quickly bends and folds itself at joints he never knew he had to form a series of interesting appendages. First it looked like a cordless drill. Then it became some kind of sharpened blade. After that it turned into a monkey wrench. By the time he could finally gain enough bearing to respond, it had become something like a blow dryer. "Oh, yes!" Ray nods his head eagerly. "In fact, I'll give the cleaner a nice tip too! Anything to keep you happy, ma'am!" Ray smiles weakly.
Mrs. Crabcake purses her lips. "Don't tip the cleaner. I'll do it." She steps towards him and looks up at him with a raised eyebrow. Rather, she somehow manages to look
down at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'll tip him off to an apartment that's opening up soon unless some lazy kid pays me my rent." She turns around and glides down the hallway. "I'm getting my rent in two days," she announces to the stairs as she goes down.
"Thank you Mrs. Crabcake! Have a wonderful night's rest now!" Ray quickly shuts the door. He leans his back against it and blows out some air. He's feeling a little better until he tries to wipe the sweat off his brow to find that blow dryer on the end of his wrist. "I have got to calm down!" A quick glance and a flinch later tells him that he has to leave the apartment or continuously remind himself of his impending doom. He grabs his winter coat, shoves his blow dryer hand down a pocket and heads out for a walk. He heads for the park he had lunch at earlier. It's a nice park, he should be calm in no time.
"Well, you'll have plenty of time to live in a van down by the river, when you're living...in a van down by the river!" --Matt Foley, motivational speaker