So you know when you’re alone and b*llocko in the changing rooms after a ride into work, you're just about to waltz into the shower, and you suddenly feel a tickling on your back?
Well this was exactly the situation I found myself in this morning. Thinking it was nothing more than an itch, I moved my hand around and started to scratch, but felt that I’d knocked something hard onto the floor. My first thought was that some sort of terrible spider had jumped onto me, but it was much too solid for that. Perhaps I'd panicked over nothing, and it was just one of those QC stickers from my jersey or something that had somehow transferred itself... Then I saw a little ladybird b*stard on the floor grinning inanely up at me.
Now I wouldn’t have normally been concerned with a little crawly fella nuzzling into my naked skin, but when I looked a little more closely at it, it was one of those little evil blood-sucking black knobs with red spots, rather than the sweet, cuddly, friendly red ones with the black spots.
I have no idea for how long he had been hitching a ride for, or what his intentions were, but either way I feel like up to this point, I had been lucky to escape with my life. Still, I left him be and continued my changing regime.
When I had finished my freezing cold shower (because I'd forgotten to log with the estates dept last week that there was no hot water), I attempted to manouvre my helmet (bicycle variety) and the angry little git had crawled all the way up the filing cabinet that I keep it on, and was cosied up inside by the padding, clearly trying to get into a hiding space from which to attack me on the way home and finish the job.
The act of turning my helmet (bicycle variety) caused him to tumble unceremoniously to the hard floor and he lay motionless. It may have actually been a backfired attempt to leap at my unprotected throat, hoping to deliver a fatal blow... I guess we'll never know.
I suspect he was either stunned or just playing dead, because he’d fallen a similar distance only 5 minutes earlier and still managed to find the energy to climb the mount Everest of filing cabinets in order to try and instigate phase two of his evil death plan. The other possibility is that he was accidentally drowned, because although there were only a couple of drops of water on the floor, a drop of water to me is probably like Loch Ness to that little midget.
No doubt when I re-enter the changing rooms at 5pm there will be no sign of him, and I’ll have to check every single item of clothing before getting changed to try and foil whatever heinous plan to take me down he’s been busy hatching in there all day... and hope that fiendish plans are the only things he's been hatching.
Well this was exactly the situation I found myself in this morning. Thinking it was nothing more than an itch, I moved my hand around and started to scratch, but felt that I’d knocked something hard onto the floor. My first thought was that some sort of terrible spider had jumped onto me, but it was much too solid for that. Perhaps I'd panicked over nothing, and it was just one of those QC stickers from my jersey or something that had somehow transferred itself... Then I saw a little ladybird b*stard on the floor grinning inanely up at me.
Now I wouldn’t have normally been concerned with a little crawly fella nuzzling into my naked skin, but when I looked a little more closely at it, it was one of those little evil blood-sucking black knobs with red spots, rather than the sweet, cuddly, friendly red ones with the black spots.
I have no idea for how long he had been hitching a ride for, or what his intentions were, but either way I feel like up to this point, I had been lucky to escape with my life. Still, I left him be and continued my changing regime.
When I had finished my freezing cold shower (because I'd forgotten to log with the estates dept last week that there was no hot water), I attempted to manouvre my helmet (bicycle variety) and the angry little git had crawled all the way up the filing cabinet that I keep it on, and was cosied up inside by the padding, clearly trying to get into a hiding space from which to attack me on the way home and finish the job.
The act of turning my helmet (bicycle variety) caused him to tumble unceremoniously to the hard floor and he lay motionless. It may have actually been a backfired attempt to leap at my unprotected throat, hoping to deliver a fatal blow... I guess we'll never know.
I suspect he was either stunned or just playing dead, because he’d fallen a similar distance only 5 minutes earlier and still managed to find the energy to climb the mount Everest of filing cabinets in order to try and instigate phase two of his evil death plan. The other possibility is that he was accidentally drowned, because although there were only a couple of drops of water on the floor, a drop of water to me is probably like Loch Ness to that little midget.
No doubt when I re-enter the changing rooms at 5pm there will be no sign of him, and I’ll have to check every single item of clothing before getting changed to try and foil whatever heinous plan to take me down he’s been busy hatching in there all day... and hope that fiendish plans are the only things he's been hatching.
Last edited:
.
), then on to the stairwell (there is NO escape 
), thence to the light fitting in the drinking-den (we know where you are going next 
).
