Part Three.
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I unplugged the phone, turned up the stereo, grabbed the newspaper and settled in for a relaxing Saturday morning.
SPLAT!! SPEW! SPLASH!
"The HAND" burst through the mail slot and shot a huge wad of bills, ads, junk mail and magazines across the floor in three full waves of postal spew.
Unnerved by the events of the last ten hours (towels still on the floor, the bird screeching profanities from inside the cupboard, Mr. Go-Go Head pacing and snapping at the fish that use to be able to hover way above him) I decide that it is useless to resist.
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