I scooped up a chunk vomit from the welcome mat and threw it in Bob’s face.
“Yummy,” he said as he forced his way in.
“So, what’s this all about?” I asked as a chunk of vomit fell from his face unto the floor.
Both Slaits and the kittens ran over to the vomit and fought over who would get the chunkiest morsel.
The kittens won and the floor was spic and span again.
“Don’t you think this Slait stuff has run its course?” Bob asked while he tried to perform a dainty pirouette, but failing miserably.
“Actually, I did when the barracuda appeared,” I said watching the Slaits and kittens scamper to the basement.
“End it then. You know, it’s Saturday and you don’t have much time left to post something,” he said while quite rudely scratching his crotch.
And that’s that. It’s now over.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Bob said while pulling something out of his pocket. “Remember that pubic hair story I told you about years ago? Hollywood’s come calling!”
Now it’s over.
Yet it’s only beginning again.