you suck

-=Part the Last=-
"Th...that's right, s....sir", whimpered Joe, fearing now not only for his own almost worthless peasant life, but also for the well-being of the orange mould colony he had been cultivating behind the toilet for the last 2 years. Shockingly, a wry grin slowly crept across Jerrys mouth, slower even than the unstoppable advance of a glacier, slower than the eventual decomposition of our Sun into a Red Dwarf. Joe knew this smile meant no good, yet was powerless to react, as his feet had gotten stuck on the lino, on that bit that he could never get to stop being sticky, no matter how often he mopped it. "Well", said Jerry, "I suppose there are OTHER ways you could pay...."

~fin

-=Part the First=-

Swarthily, Jerry crashed in the front door, "WHERE'S MY RENT, PEASANT?!", he screamed. Shyly, Joe appeared from his Fortress of Moulditude to whisper, "I...I...I'm s..s.ss.s.ssorry, sir, I spent the rent money on Recycling Bags and Lightb-bulbs...". Chest heaving, Lord Jerry Umbridge The 3rd, Duke of Galway and Overseer of Thrashings was visibly taken aback. "You mean to tell me, you cannot pay the rent?!", he roared, spittle flying from his lips, a little bubble of which fluttered through the air in the kitchen, and gently landed on the leftover almost-expired Tesco Branflakes.

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