I'll Be Dead in Two Weeks

A few weeks ago, I was at my brother’s house watching his dog while he was away.  Everything was fine until Sunday afternoon.  I was upstairs doing dishes when I heard a loud banging noise coming from the garage.

I ran downstairs and into the pitch black garage and it was just deafening: BANG, BANG, BANG!  I flipped the light on and quickly realized that the washing machine was demonically possessed.

It wildly charged me from across the room.  I tackled it but it bounced off the ground and managed to shake me to the floor.  We squared off, and it took a swing at me.  But I was quick.  I blocked it with my left, clocked it with my right, and then I tackled it again.  I had it pinned in a sleeper hold and it let out a guttural moan.  I kneed it in the side, and it gasped to catch its breath.  I kneed it again, but it managed to summon some fiendish strength from its underworld appliance-god, and it threw me to the ground.  While I struggled to find my footing, it banged loudly, mocking me.  But I knew it was only a weak intimidation tactic.

That’s it.  This thing was going down.  I wasn’t playing anymore.

It came at me again.   Too late, sucka!  I was already on my feet.  I lunged at it, and hit it hard with my shoulder. Before it could recover, I gave it another quick left, then another knee, and another right. I had it on the ropes.

I was enraged. I began kicking and screaming…”AND (kick) I (kick) DON’T (kick) WANT (kick) TO (kick) HAVE (kick) THIS (kick) CONVERSATION (kick) AGAIN (kick)!

The mechanical menace coughed up one last death-throe-squeal in defeat.  I reached deep into its belly and ripped out its clothes-guts…still sopping from the failed spin cycle.  I held them above my head in triumph!

AAAAAAAAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH…

…just as my brother, home from his trip, entered the garage and said, “What in the name of all that’s holy?”

Epilogue:
After my righteous battle, the Maytag lay there, withered, much to the  delight of my nephew’s golf clubs.  Apparently, the laundry-beast had been bullying the other garage-dwellers for some time.  The empty fish tank, utility sink and hockey sticks let out a cheer, and the snow-blower sat there looking rather droll.  Of course, the snow-blower is never truly happy unless it’s chewing on something.