What is that irregularity in the usual rumbling of clanking iron and stone; someone must be calling me from below.
Well, stop calling! I’m coming!
But I can’t go down the stone stairwell yet, for there are two corn cobs in the iron oven. What a beautiful fluffy white. Never seen two-month old corn cobs so nicely molded before.
Ooef! What was that? A white cloud of fungal spores? Who was so smart to tell me to open the oven door?
This requires haste! Come, handkerchief! Cover my nose as I fling them damn corns out of the castle window!
And what a suspense; a flock of black birds had time to change formation along the horizon before I hear the powdery thud on the weed-infested cobblestone road far down below. But it bothers no one, for there is no one. The scrawny singletted junkie leaning over the ledge a few ramshackle balconies below doesn’t count; he is too stoned to care.
Time to try heading down the stone staircase again! But no, I still can’t – two huge slabs of tombstone-thick decomposing meat are oozing rancid juices from the top oven rack. I have to yank them out and bring them down to those below; perhaps it could make a nice warm meal for a few weary lads.
Hey, look! I yanked them out! They are so chunky and moist - I love meat! I’m hugging them against my cheeks and never letting go, wheee!
Wait … what am I thinking? The hernia in my back can totally not take the weight of these two slabs of meat – I am putting them down! I will just check out this new television over here. From the side it has a huge box like an old-school CRT, but from the front, it looks just flat … …
IT IS A FLAT SCREEN LCD TV!
Cool! Who bought this for me?