Slumlord Interlude

[lapsedmodernist]

As I was walking down the stairs on my way to get cash to pay for my new favorite meal, the grilled salmon salad from Black Betty's, en route to my house at that moment, I heard scurrying on the first floor.

"Hello?" I said.

"It's a ghost," I heard, and then Slumlord materialized, stared at me and said "I thought you were a ghost."

"Did you come to fix the gate lock?" I inquired.

"No, I have come to strangle you," Slumlord responded jovially.

"I know you would love to do that, Slumlord, but we still need you to fix the gate," I rolled my eyes.

"No, I don't want to do that, anthrochica," he interrupted plaintively. "I want to live in peace. I work only twenty hours a day, and the other four I like living in peace. And I have until the weekend to fix the gate. Is it the weekend yet?"

Also, if anyone wants to know, Slumlord's outgoing message for his voicemail consists of static, then a nasal voice screaming "Joooohn Wayne." And then more static.

Comments

[lightdenied.livejournal.com]

you guys are in love!

[lapsedmodernist.livejournal.com]

hush, lightdenied
more comments like this and santa will be skipping your chimney this year.

[(Anonymous)]

Other than the fact that he doesn't fix stuff that needs to be fixed, Slumlord sounds pretty cool. I imagine him having a potbelly and a cul-de-sac of greying (or fully grey) hair surrounding a proudly-displayed, glimmering (possibly waxed?) dome.

C.Wyxardde