Aw, come on Gerry. Don’t look at me like that. What am I supposed to do, you’ve kind of backed me into a corner here. I mean, if anything, I should be angry with you. Third time this month the police have been round here in the middle of the night. What’s the matter with you, eh? Why do you do it? And you know I’ve got this big presentation at work today.
When I get back we’re going down to Regent’s Park so you can apologise to the zoo keeper for getting the lions all riled up again. One of them seriously hurt herself trying to get out of the enclosure to get you, you know? Ran straight into the viewing glass and knocked herself out. I can see you smirking. Stop it. They’re an endangered species Gerry, it’s not funny.
Why does you always have to show off, eh? When are you going to grow up and think about the consequences of your actions? Because all actions have consequences, Gerry. As you’re going to learn today. You will stay tied to this kitchen table until I’m back from work and think about what you did. You better have a bloody good apology ready for the zoo keeper by then too. Something humble that suggests that you do realise how lucky you are that they still allow you to live here with me.
Have I made myself clear?
The original prompt for this post came from 642 things to write about: young writer’s edition by the San Francisco Writer’s Grotto.
“There is a giraffe tied to your kitchen table. Why?”