Our
refrigerator is located in the scullery of suite 307 in Deathrock
Apartments, in the vast realms of Dunogremesh, in the thriving
metropolis of Winterpeg, on the sandy loam of former glacier Lake
Agassiz, the flood plain of present Lake Winnipeg, on the banks of
the mighty River Red where our Lord Musum presides. He installed his
resplendency within the ziggurat of the newly established Canadian
Museum for Human Rights and has apparently taken a dislike to our
scullery's ice boxes, perchance because we do not come crawling with
burnt offerings and lewd dance up the ramparts of his ziggurat to
bestow blessings upon his magnanimity.
Anyhow,
in the warm summer months of 2014, our old clunker of an ice box
which weighed in at 323.7 pounds packed it in. Yes it died, and the
kind undertakers of Dunogremesh who carried it off to be buried in
sweet honour of forty three years of steadfast service were sore
amused at the collection of dead mice which had mummified themselves
in it's underpilings over the years as this ice box revelled in the
tasks put before it, to cool and freeze the perishables of various
tenants, while anchored as if a pyramid, its sharp feet buried in the
linoleum and vinyl and floor boards with a grasp which defied even a
crow bar.
Born
unto us, in wake of this tragedy, was a sprightly little model, white
and pure, which in it's glory years undoubtedly behaved itself quite
outstandingly. But alas, that Lord Musum, he saw the happiness
bestowed upon his subjects and he became jealous. He sent forth
spirits, really naughty spirits, who revealed in the joys of
disrupting the flowing of electrons, those little beasties who keep
modern society in pulchritudinous harmony. They orchestrated a
malady in our little white and pure ice box, so her noodle froze to
minus 30 C while her tummy languished at the tepid warmth of plus 35
C. Clever magicians were sent forth from the vast auspices of
Dunogremesh and they tempted those itty-bitty electrons with spells
and bribery, and our little fridge's equanimity was restored to an
somewhat even keel.
But
woe unto us, Lord Musum is a very powerful lord, and he became
furious at these magical jokers who attempted to thwart his
magnanimity. He badgered and heckled our little white and pure ice
box till she broke down sobbing and has given up all hope of ever
being a good little fridge. His plan seems to be to entrap those
magicians with their own spells, sending a chill of the ages along
with a humongous Colorado low throughout the capacious Dunogremesh
Empire, so the mighty River Red will overflow it's banks and submerge
all the vast holdings which Dunogremesh has in it's domain with mud
and slime.
We
would be overjoyed if Dunogremesh would tempt fate and send forth
it's magicians once more into the dark and lowly crevices of it's
vast domain. After many attempts at coaxing our little white and
pure ice box to regain her composure with frozen ice cream pails of
ice tucked into her tummy, we may even be willing to perform some
lewd dance and song on the ramparts of the ziggurat of our esteemed
Lord Musum, if this is deemed as the only solution. We submit this
charitably, let those magicians have one more go. We wait with
baited breath, knowing full well the power of his resplendency, our
Lord Musum. May the magicians of Dunogremesh reign supreme.
Submitted
to the Dunogremesh Property Management Corporation, November 17, in the
year of our Lorde 2015
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