Yes, I collect many many many Pokemon toys. I collect so many Pokemon toys that I first had to move them from my room to my closet. My closet quickly became full, and started writing me long letters of complaints, which it would conveniently leave on my doorstep. Don't ask me how my closet can put stuff on my doorstep, you should be more concerned about how it can write complaints.
Anyway, once my closet got filled, I, being the lazy slacker that I am, decided to ignore my closet. My closet then became angry and started leaving more than just complaints at more doorstep. It left a box of fire crackers, some toilet paper, toast, soup, a bomb, a fire hydrant, some Mexicans that refused to speak English, some Russians that refused to speak Spanish, some Italians that refused to speak Russian, and some Chinese people that refused to speak Italian. As you might know, when you put so many people that are from so many different countries together, wars start.
Yes, my closet thought it would be quite the idea to leave a war on my doorstep. Little did he know, it was not MY doorstep he was leaving that stuff on. It was the door to my bathroom.
Yes, the door to my bathroom. What a horror. Why did it have to be the door to my bathroom? Of course, as you probably already suspected, my toilet, sink, and shower now got angered. I didn't know what to do. I had my closet, my toilet, my sink, and my shower out to get me now. Why? Because I was too lazy to get up and find a proper place for my Pokemon paraphernalia.
Anyway, onwards with my story. Now, with half of my house angry at me, I had to think of a plan. Because at that very moment, the war between me and my house began. After my bathroom became angry with me, they started doing very odd and mean things that really just weren't nice. My shower started to spray water at friendly passerby, my sink, instead of cleaning dirty hands, would simply make them worse, and my toilet, well, I'm sure you can expect what my toilet did.
Now, in all this commotion my stairs started to get aroused. Why? I do not know. It could have been the pancakes it ate that morning. It could have been the mean old mail man. It could have been all the people that were walking all over them. It could have been those darn cereal boxes. Whatever it was, the stairs became so angry that they transformed into the Statue of Liberty. But instead of the Statue of Liberty holding the book of liberty, she was holding sausages and a large paper bag. Yes, this is the stuff nightmares are made out of.
I can tell you what happened next, but I'm not going to. It was a tragic incident that ended in much sorrow for me, and of course, my mailbox.
All I can say, is please, listen to my advice. Find the proper place for your Pokemon paraphernalia. And when your closet starts writing you letters, listen to them. That is all.
Sincerely,
NOTspam
