Paradise Lost

It is pandemonium in the house.

The washing machine has flooded the kitchen and a lake of water covers the ground floor.

Trotter races around in a madly excited fashion, taking corners at speed, spraying water over the furniture.

Faggot is being sick on the sofa because he ate all the cat food, far too quickly, and the sick slithers down the side of the sofa to dilute into the flood waters on the floor.

Tutz and Giggsey Girl, the stupid slug face ,have made a raft out of a dustbin lid and are floating morosely, hoping for dry land.

Lulu sleeps impervious to the damp.

And Fing? Fing has pulled all the clean washing off the side onto the floor and now it is soaking wet and smelling of damp. In the sitting room he has pulled the throws to the floor and thrown cushions at Trotter as he raced by, Fing does not appreciate being wet. He has pissed on the clothes and stood by as Trotter savaged the cushions. He has watched as the waves caused by Trotters racing have thrown the cats off course in their dustbin lid raft, into the glass cabinet, knocking over some of Marthas priceless crystal.

All this he has watched with a satisfied smile

He thinks that it is Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.