The Day of Unfortunate Events.

So, guys. My idea pool is running a little low, I have enough ideas left in my head to last maybe 2-4 more days, not including today, but 2-4 days is not very long. So start posting random ideas in comments and you will see if they are used or not, you will not find out if your idea was used or not until I actually write a story and you see it posted. So if you ever think of an ingenious idea that you think that I can make interesting, please feel free to post it. The worst idea is the one you don’t suggest, so anything that comes to mind.

Now that that little announcement is over, we can continue on with the next adventure in Dalziel’s exciting, drama-filled life. Last we had left him with the lingering taste of some poopy silver nitrate in his mouth, but that had been covered up and dissolved into the large amounts of random snacks Dalziel was eating and swallowed where it would then be digested and turned into REAL poop. The taste was so unique, that Dalziel is sure that he will not forget the taste anytime soon, not until he becomes a senile old man who yells and little kids for no apparent reason.

Now, onto the story…

It was just a normal Sunday morning. Dalziel was waking up to the more melodious beeping of his new-found alarm clock with many different functions. He had moved into his brother Northrop’s room after Northrop had moved away to college. Well he hadn’t really moved into Northrop’s room by choice. When his older brother had come back home for Thanksgiving break he was bringing home some special people, and by special people I mean special to him ;D. So Mama Dalziel decided that since Northrop’s old room was only one wall away from the master bedroom that these special guests would not feel comfortable sleeping a wall away from the owners of the house. The simple solution to this problem was to move Dalziel out of his current room and into Northrop’s old room.

Dalziel was not totally against moving into what had used to be his room many, many years before. In fact, Dalziel had Northrop had switched rooms numerous times. Thus Dalziel never had to decorate his room with his own posters and other funky additions that make a room personal. Northrop, being the lazy person he was, would never take down anything from the walls of his old room, and Dalziel just inherited the decorations with no complaints.

So back to that Sunday morning: Dalziel was awakening to his new and improved alarm clock that also doubled as his cell phone and watch. He groggily shuffled into the bathroom and waited his turn to empty the liquids the night had left in his bladder. After leaving his morning’s waste its place, he shuffled back into his/Northrop’s room and decided what he was to wear that morning to Sunday service. Half-awake he picked out his nice pink striped shirt and khaki pants. Dalziel always liked looking nice on Sunday mornings, he was brought up dressing up on Sundays and there was nothing wrong with looking your best when going off to meet the one you love.

An analogy to help illustrate this belief: if one were to say, meet a special someone of the opposite sex (or the same if that’s how you swing), one would like to look his or her best. One would not want to in anyway repel this special someone by wearing pre-ripped jeans because that special someone would probably be repulsed by the fact that someone paid $100 for something that he or she had bought for $1 and worn down into the “fashionable” look after years of use. If one really wants to wear old-looking pants, you are welcome to bring any pair of new jeans to me and I will wear them for you for a few years, and I will return them to you in their full $100 glory.

So Dalziel got all dressed up for Sunday, brushed his teeth and completed all the normal morning routines that people should do. But in fact, this brushing teeth thing in the morning had only entered Dalziel’s life about a year before this dread-ridden Sunday morning. Dalziel had used to believe that brushing teeth in the morning was just something the toothpaste companies had invented to get people to use more toothpaste and this would in turn, make people buy more toothpaste as they consumed more toothpaste in a daily basis. But his views had changed after this topic of his not brushing his teeth had been insulted by someone who he held in a special light. This got Dalziel thinking more about his personal hygiene and then he realized that the tooth paste companies were not just money-hungry people looking to gyp people out of their money. Every morning when he awoke, he would feel that disgusting feeling in his mouth as if someone had just took a crap in his mouth. Unlike the silver nitrate experience of his life, his mouth actually did not taste of poop, but it felt as if someone had; there was the same textural feeling. And then ever since that fateful day, Dalziel started brushing his teeth every morning and he had one person to thank.

After the normal prep, Dalziel sat waiting in the kitchen for Northrop to finish up as he could not drive yet. As Northrop came slowly traipsing down the stairs, Ladridia went ballistic as she normally does; running around in circles, barking her little head off, but all this chaos was easily solved with a simple stomp on the floor and a menacing, “Ladridiaaa?”. So all was quiet and peaceful as Northrop and Dalziel got into the car for the normal twenty minute drive to church.

But this was no normal morning anymore... With Northrop driving, the normal twenty minutes was cut by a quarter into fifteen minutes. And also since Northrop did not feel “normal” parking in the back of the church where the English service was held, all this unnatural occurrences just because Northrop was home… All these out of the ordinary things should have tipped off Dalziel that something else out of the ordinary was bound to happen, and that’s just what he got.

Dalziel was stepping out of the car, he reached for his bible with his right hand, stepped out of the car right leg first, and then as soon as his left leg cleared the car, he began to close the door with his right hand with the bible in it. As he was doing so, his left hand was lagging behind the rest of his body and as the door came back to meet its counterpart of the car’s frame, it was so desperate to be reunited with its partner that it dragged everything in its way back to the car with it. Unfortunately for Dalziel, the pointer-finger of his left hand was in the path of the lust-driven car door and was dragged into the dark crevasses that surround the cracks of a door.

At first Dalziel thought he could just quickly slip his finger out from the crack, but unbeknownst to him, but knownst to car, his finger was jammed snugly in place with the door fully closed.

“AH! HELP! AH!”

“What!? What’d you do?”

Opening the door and quickly clutching his left finger, “CRAP! Ah… I… Just slammed my friggin’ finger in the door.”

“HAHAHA… are you serious?” looking at Dalziel’s mangled finger, “HOLY CRAP KID! YOU DID! AHAHAHA! ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“Yeah I think, it just kind of hurts…… a lot…” the blood started pooling on top of Dalziel’s finger and the two brothers rushed towards the church building for some immediate first-aid kid attention.

“Good mor - ooh that looks like it hurts, go to the office for some bandaids,” were the first words out of the morning’s welcoming usher. The two brothers then continued into the office where Dalziel quickly grabbed a tissue and held it snug over his profusely bleeding finger. Northrop was busy looking for the first aid kid and a bandaid large enough to hold all of Dalziel’s precious fruit punch with cornstarch solution inside his body.

At this point Dalziel was feeling slightly light-headed from the shock and perhaps from the blood he had lost, even though he had only lost probably a few ounces by then. He promptly sat down as Northrop continued riffling through random cabinets in search of the magical heavy netherweave bandage that would restore 3400 HP to Dalziel’s battle-ridden body. (No not really, but you get the idea.)

Finally one of the administrators of the church came around and with his experience in Chinese safety tactics, found the first aid kit in no time and Dalziel was able to properly bandage his wound and apply an excessive amount of anti-biotic. Thus, this fateful day was one that will not soon be forgotten in Dalziel’s life. To this day, his left pointer-fingernail is still not the same. Yes, it has grown back, but its normal shape and thickness has been altered with, perhaps this small deformity will be with Dalziel for the rest of his life to remind him of the hilarious yet embarrassing plights of his younger days…