Ben was having one of those days when everything just seemed to go his way. The mirror revealed a face completely devoid of zits and although things in that area had slowly been improving no spots at all was an absolute thrill. His old belt was a bit loose on the usual hole, had he dropped a couple of pounds? Cool. To top it all the nasty curry stain had washed out of his favourite t-shirt. It all seemed just too good to be true.
Along the hallway in the kitchen Stella spat out another expletive as she broke the second wine glass that morning. She had no idea how she was going to get rid of the red wine stain on the cream sofa cushion and she had messed about with it so long that now she was going to be late for registration for the creative writing course and would have to queue with all the plebs. Shit, shit, shit. The morning had got off to a bloody brilliant start NOT and she still didn’t know what she was going to wear because she’d forgotten to pick up her dry cleaning.
All very lightweight stuff of course but those in the know, as you are dear reader, may have noticed a trend. Has it given you cause for a little concern as it has this writer. That’s it you see, once you start looking for assistance from the wrong quarters you lose control and when the Godlets had sent one of the most junior and least experienced of their number on the mission to their downstairs neighbours they had made a fairly stupendous error.
In the Stella, Steve, Ben household there was already a deal of ill feeling, nastiness and general bad vibes and now that it was all being stirred by nefarious interlopers there was over-reaction all around. Oh my goodness where is all this going to end.
When he got back to the viewing area and began his debriefing the messenger caused a frisson of concern when he explained that the way he had approached the subject had been to present Ben as a possible tool and Stella as, well to put it frankly, victim. Oh dear that wasn’t what they had intended at all. They had hoped for a gentle readjustment of Stella’s outlook. An honest evaluation of the way that she used her talents and if not complete reversion at least that she would become less self-centred and well not to put too fine a point on it pretty mean.
There was a collective groan, sounded like thunder in some parts of the world, a communal shaking of heads which caused gales and high seas in Forth, Tyne and Dogger and a couple of Ethereal expletives which actually set off a several minor earthquakes in the middle of the Atlantic.
Was it too late to stop it all. Maybe a little note explaining that actually they could handle it themselves thanks and all that. Perhaps a fruit basket, well no not that but a nice new pitch fork or some charcoal. One thing that they mustn’t do though and they all agreed on this and that was to let the Boss know. They had kept the original problem from him quite well up to know but this, if he heard about this there would be Hell to pay, well maybe not but anyway there’d be trouble.