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Today, Timmy The Tim Tim tip-toed along to the letterbox, in hopes of receiving many goodies, including (but not limited to) miscalculations from the bank in my advantage, second prizes in beauty contests (I know I should have gotten first prize, but I forgot to wax my bikini line for the swimsuit competition & then I didn’t sleep with all the judges like the winner did, etcetera etcetera) and get-out-of-jail-free cards (you never know when you’re going to get hammered so bad that you lick a policeman instead of the lolly-pop you assumed you were licking), and so on...
But before I could even open the Letterbox of Joy, I stumbled upon something different. Above the names of the gallery, somebody had written “SCHWEINE” in a rather childish handwriting. Who had we upset? And why? Soon, I wasn’t thinking about all the prizes I may find in the letterbox; I was focussed on finding the culprit of this most heinous of crimes (forgive me my exaggeration, I need to be dramatic, or else I cannot be - I know there are worse crimes, like eating kittens!).
Inspector Timothy had a new case on his hands. Being Belgian and therefore related to such fictional characters as Hercule Poirot, Tintin and Jesus (yes, Jesus was Belgian - didn’t know that, did you?), detective work is in my blood. Since only residents (and the postman!) have access to the building, there aren’t that many suspects. Was it Madame Poopenstein from the second floor who had a secret affair with Herr Glübbelmünster from the fourth floor? Maybe she was retaliating because Timothy had caught her red-handed last week as she dropped her handkerchief that reeked of Glübbelmünster’s eau-de-cologne? Or was it the “innocent” old couple Pümpernippler who Mademoiselle Schleissmilch saw rummaging through the Abnormals refuse bins only last week? But what about Mademoiselle Schleissmilch herself? What of the rumours we heard that she is the one planting those huge harvestmen (daddy long-legs spiders) in our toilets, thus scaring the bejeezus out of Yours Truly? (I am arachnophobic but I also love animals, so I cannot kill the animals - instead, my toilet stay are always somewhat tense, as I try to stare down the Beast)
Someone wants us out, that much is clear.... Hmmm... Or maybe someone wants pigs to move in, which is why they already have put their name on the letterbox!
Either way, it looks like this is going to be a 13 episode investigation, filled with breath-taking action, hardcore nudity, nuclear explosions, extreme passion, drug overdoses and mountains of pigs.
I have written the BBC to make this into a television series. I want it to be a costume drama, so we’ll all be in 19th century robes!
/
TIM @ Abnormals
It must be said that I love pigs, so anyone calling me one cannot offend me. No creature embodies kindness and love as much as pigs do – we slaughter and torture them by the millions, but still they *want* to trust us, want to give us another chance. Even as carnivores, pigs should be on nobody’s menu, they don’t deserve it for all the torture and pain we cause them.
But before I could even open the Letterbox of Joy, I stumbled upon something different. Above the names of the gallery, somebody had written “SCHWEINE” in a rather childish handwriting. Who had we upset? And why? Soon, I wasn’t thinking about all the prizes I may find in the letterbox; I was focussed on finding the culprit of this most heinous of crimes (forgive me my exaggeration, I need to be dramatic, or else I cannot be - I know there are worse crimes, like eating kittens!).
Inspector Timothy had a new case on his hands. Being Belgian and therefore related to such fictional characters as Hercule Poirot, Tintin and Jesus (yes, Jesus was Belgian - didn’t know that, did you?), detective work is in my blood. Since only residents (and the postman!) have access to the building, there aren’t that many suspects. Was it Madame Poopenstein from the second floor who had a secret affair with Herr Glübbelmünster from the fourth floor? Maybe she was retaliating because Timothy had caught her red-handed last week as she dropped her handkerchief that reeked of Glübbelmünster’s eau-de-cologne? Or was it the “innocent” old couple Pümpernippler who Mademoiselle Schleissmilch saw rummaging through the Abnormals refuse bins only last week? But what about Mademoiselle Schleissmilch herself? What of the rumours we heard that she is the one planting those huge harvestmen (daddy long-legs spiders) in our toilets, thus scaring the bejeezus out of Yours Truly? (I am arachnophobic but I also love animals, so I cannot kill the animals - instead, my toilet stay are always somewhat tense, as I try to stare down the Beast)
Someone wants us out, that much is clear.... Hmmm... Or maybe someone wants pigs to move in, which is why they already have put their name on the letterbox!
Either way, it looks like this is going to be a 13 episode investigation, filled with breath-taking action, hardcore nudity, nuclear explosions, extreme passion, drug overdoses and mountains of pigs.
I have written the BBC to make this into a television series. I want it to be a costume drama, so we’ll all be in 19th century robes!
/
TIM @ Abnormals
It must be said that I love pigs, so anyone calling me one cannot offend me. No creature embodies kindness and love as much as pigs do – we slaughter and torture them by the millions, but still they *want* to trust us, want to give us another chance. Even as carnivores, pigs should be on nobody’s menu, they don’t deserve it for all the torture and pain we cause them.
