I went round to the Sweaty Metallers' house today. I brought them a housewarming present. I was sure this would get things off to a great start.
"Hello Sweaty Metallers," I said when they answered the door. "Here's a Phil Collins album for you to listen to when you're slam dancing."
The sweaty metaller told me to fuck off and slammed the door in my face. Fuck them I'm not going to try any more. I decided to have a quiet night in but the metallers started playing loud heavy metal. I looked out the window to see people in the garden. It looked like they'd invited everyone else in the street, even Mr Spoon.
I was so upset. I tried to tell Fabian Wildman but he didn't care; he was too busy talking about his five-year plan. I couldn't be arsed listening I just sat around pissed off wanting to lick the bowl.
