Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Harold scratched his leg absently and carried on with his work. It wasn’t until he took a break an hour later and had to smother his legs with rubbing alcohol to stop them itching that he noticed all the insect bites. And the new cat.
“Devious!” he called. “What’s that cat doing in the shop? It’s covered in fleas!”
The imp frowned. “You asked for it!”
“When? When would I, in your wildest imaginings, have asked for a mangy, one-eyed flea-ridden cat?”
“At 8:32 this morning.”
“What? I…” Harold cast his mind back and scowled. “I asked for a TEABAG.”