I wake up this morning and these three monsters are in my kitchen eating our food. Big bowls full of all sorts of our food, egg shells and banana peels and assorted packaging strewn all over the place. They are eating all my food.
"Hey," I say. "What are you guys doing?"
The one with the tentacles kind of looks up at me, but it's a sideways sort of look and he looks away real quick.
Mr. Happy Puppet Head bobbles in. "Morning," he says. "Hey guys." They kind of grunt at him. He goes and rumages around in the fridge and takes out a half-empty 40oz. of malt liqour.
"Are these your friends?" I ask.
"Yeah." He chugs down the 40.
"Nice cape, asshole!" yells the tentacle one. His mouth is full of my wheat-square cereal.
"That's Marty," says Mr. Happy Puppet Head. "He's funny."
The monsters finish all the food. They look around and start eating other things, like the kitchen table, then peeling up the tiles of the floor, then the plates and cabinets and dishes and silverware and the sink and the refridgerator and the stove and then they move onto the living room and I say "Hey," but they don't pay any attention as they chew up and swallow the tv the couch the rugs my soft chair and the books on the bookshelf. Very soon they eat everything that is inside the house.
"Mr. Happy Puppet Head," I whisper. "Can we step outside for a second?"
"I just want to talk to you privately for a second."
Outside I ask him why he's letting his friends eat everything. He says I should have said something if I didn't like it.
Big crash as the house caves in on itself, then the monsters eat their way out of the rubble, then eat the rubble. "Look," I point.
"My smooth jazz collection!" Mr. Happy Puppet Head yells. "Guys! Did you eat my jazz, too?"
The big snappy thing without a face yells out in a woman's voice, "Sorry."
Now Mr. Happy Puppet Head is real mad and he yells at his friends and makes them go away. He doesn't even laugh when Marty tells me to take a shower and get a job.
Now we have to find a new house.