Friday
Mar042005
The Little Brown Ikea Pencil of Doom: Part 5
Friday, March 4, 2005 at 06:50PM
Lars Swedishname paced his hotel room nervously. For the thousandth time he cursed the twists of fate that had brought him to this nondescript town in a foreign country, searching out the ultimate in home furnishing evil. Then he cursed again. �A thousand and one� he thought as he sat down on the bed. He looked at the desk in the corner. On it was a silver bullet, a flask of holy water, a wooden stake, a crucifix and an electric pencil sharpener. There was a knock at the door. He stood up and walked over to see who it was.
�Who are you?� he asked, peering through the peep hole into the corridor outside his room. A unformed policeman stood with his head down. He appeared to be writing something in his notebook. Lars shuddered.
�Police Constable Wilkins, MadeupTown police� said the officer. �I�ve got some more questions about this theory of yours�.
Lars�s hands trembled as he removed the chain and slowly turned the handle. Then the door flew open and the policeman burst into the room.
�Lars Swedishname� said the Constable Wilkins, reading from his notebook. �I must kill you and then go and buy a Babord shoe rack�
Lars backed away from him, towards the desk. �Why the Babord� he asked nervously �The Skoomp is much larger and better finished. And it only costs an extra five pounds�.
The policeman looked down at his notes.
�No� he said, �It must be the Babord, it is pine finish and will better match the Bango telephone table. And now you must die�
Lars looked up at the policeman, staring at the little brown pencil behind the constable�s left ear. He would only have one chance to make his move and it must be�. now! He lunged forward towards the policeman, grabbing with outstretched hand for the pencil. His fingers plucked it from behind the constable�s ear, and with a deft movement he swung round and plunged the pencil into the electric pencil sharpener. The sharpener sprang to life, and then, as abruptly, stopped. �Curse these foreign mains adapters�, thought Lars, as the policeman moved closer towards him....
(to be continued)
�Who are you?� he asked, peering through the peep hole into the corridor outside his room. A unformed policeman stood with his head down. He appeared to be writing something in his notebook. Lars shuddered.
�Police Constable Wilkins, MadeupTown police� said the officer. �I�ve got some more questions about this theory of yours�.
Lars�s hands trembled as he removed the chain and slowly turned the handle. Then the door flew open and the policeman burst into the room.
�Lars Swedishname� said the Constable Wilkins, reading from his notebook. �I must kill you and then go and buy a Babord shoe rack�
Lars backed away from him, towards the desk. �Why the Babord� he asked nervously �The Skoomp is much larger and better finished. And it only costs an extra five pounds�.
The policeman looked down at his notes.
�No� he said, �It must be the Babord, it is pine finish and will better match the Bango telephone table. And now you must die�
Lars looked up at the policeman, staring at the little brown pencil behind the constable�s left ear. He would only have one chance to make his move and it must be�. now! He lunged forward towards the policeman, grabbing with outstretched hand for the pencil. His fingers plucked it from behind the constable�s ear, and with a deft movement he swung round and plunged the pencil into the electric pencil sharpener. The sharpener sprang to life, and then, as abruptly, stopped. �Curse these foreign mains adapters�, thought Lars, as the policeman moved closer towards him....
(to be continued)
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