Life, Problems

@Deadly_Coffee_Table

Sorry for taking such a long long break in between chapters, guys! It's been a whack-out life since a bit before summer ended. I've got a few cool things to say on that eventually, but for now...

Mildly extreme pain.

Definition?

Stubbing your toe.

Yes, friends, but let's have an example;

You know that coffee table in your living room? The cherry wood one with a gorgeous gloss finish? The one that's taken everything from trampling toddler feet to teacup stains to the occasional water spill about the size of the Montreal Flood of '87?

You thought it was a good friend. A real team player. You thought it was here for you, sacrificing itself to fifty pounds of your two-year-old cousin every second weekend and coming out alive. But no, those occurrences have started a passionate flame inside Mr. Coffee Table, and now it's all coming out.

That day, you were late for school. Or work. Whatever. You people are young and capable or something, right? Yeah, school.

So you're stumbling out of the bathroom, stumbling around the house, stumbling up and down the stairs or wherever you youngsters need to go, when you come across the coffee table and distractedly don't notice the malevolent sheen in its gorgeous gloss finish.

When you stumble your way right past him, that's when he moves up across the floor.

Kapow, man!

Corner right between your smallest two toes.

Owch, pain!

You keep with your stumbling streak and stumble back, hitching your shirt up or something and glancing angrily down at Mr. Coffee Table. But no. He's too smart for that. He's moved back to his original position, whistling the opening to DNA and rolling his eyes like a possessed cat. He's innocent. You know he's not, but he is.

So you leave him alone, lurching your way along to your bedroom or whatever, wincing every time you step on your five broken phalanges, going back to unplug your phone and play some Flappy Bird. Wait, not Flappy Bird. God, I miss that game.

In other words, yeah. The furniture's out to get you. Get you real bad, man. Nab you right between the toes. Maybe score some bonus points by breaking and/or splitting your nails. Even more bonus points for breaking and/or splitting your nails after you got them painted yesterday.

Anywho, be careful. The next time you look for your keys or some shizzle like that, just be aware. Be afraid, too, cuz man, that coffee table's got a burning hatred and a plan for revenge.

Any constructive criticism or tips on either being punctual and aware on when your books are emptying out or how to avoid deadly coffee tables here to kill your tootsies? Leave them in the comments. We can all use a little more protection. Especially me.