Grumpy and I have been pestered this past week by a nuisance caller. Some unknown fool keeps calling our number, mumbling, drunken, barely intelligible, looking for some other unknown person with whom he has some unknown beef. We know this for sure: the first unknown wants the second unknown to, "come here and die like a maldicion rabbit."
Clearly he's a fan of Watership Down.
The last message he left on the answering machine imparted this wisdom, "I just wasted forty maldicion cents. [incredibly long pause] Do you know what that means?"
I regret to inform you that he did not provide any enlightenment on that question. We may all die wondering. Like maldicion rabbits.
So last night the phone rang and I answered it. It was Bloody Ern & we had a quick chat. As I hung up the phone Grumpy's head, with an irritated face on it, appeared in the doorway.
"Was that that bloody idiot again?"
"No, it was Dad."
"Yeah, that's who I was talking about."
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