Somewhere, deep in the deepest bowls of Hell lie heaps of brimstone, ashes, and IKEA furniture.
Somewhere within this particular bowel of Hell, deep in its burning, cavernous expanse, seats Balor, the Lord of Fire. In his piles of brimstone and furniture, he is granted access to a computer, the internet, and direct control over my shower's temperature.
As he goes about his morning routine of flossing his horns, watching the latest episode of "Beauty and the Geek," etc. He is interrupted by (the rather unfortunate) Gleen. Gleen is a diligent intern in hell. Incompetent, yes. But diligent, nonetheless. It was so hard to find people like that these days, what with all the grinding and gnashing of teeth to be done. Kneeling, Gleen recited the script of introduction that is only to be done by the lowest of lows, or interns. Both of which happened to be Gleen.
"Oh Balor, Fire Lord, may you burn forever. May your horns glimmer as your slaughter your enemies upon the bloody battlefield of hideous gore and misery. May you--"
"Yes, what is it?!" Screams Balor in return, agitated because he just missed the part where they go to the Star Trek convention.
"Sir, I think you should have a look at this." Replies Gleen, and proceeds to direct the Lord of Most Things Evil and Flaming to my blog.
He must not have been very pleased.
Shortly after bringing down a rain of ashes from the deeping stalactites above, the Lord of Fire brought his hand to his axe of might and, in swinging, brought it down upon a small, red, mechanical button. And, shortly after the button exclaimed something to the tune of "Wow, that was evil." the cold water in my shower stopped working. I cannot say this was a very pleasant experience, to say the least. To wake up at ungodly hours of a Saturday morning (for, indeed, any hour of a Saturday morning is ungodly, as they don't even play
League of Superheroes 'till one o'clock anymore), and to rise and reveal myself unheeded to the pressure of, at first, incredibly cold water. And, in performing my ritualistic chantings and bangings, the water started to heat itself.
Problem was, it didn't
stop heating itself. Nor could I make it, for I soon realized that the cold water knob itself had
ceased function. And as it lay there lifeless, without purpose, I whimpered slightly, and mourned the loss of a very loyal comrade in times of need.
Farewell, old friend. We salute you.
Comments (1)
LOL to the "beauty and the geek" part.