'Chop them in bigger pieces or else they wont cook properly!' The annoying fairy shrieks while sitting on my shoulder as if she owns that part of my body. Cheers.
'And don't forget to stir the rice!' she squeals again, 'crying while cutting onions? GOOD, you planted them all over my sisters house, and she had to move back in with her second cousin, and we all know how they get on...'
I grit my teeth. Throw her in the pot? I ponder, and then I contemplate fairy murder, and think about the consequences- which could be brutal and alarming, but also possibly quite entertaining- and I feel my arm twitch.
~I have no fairy logic.
'We have no logic.' The fairy says serenely, swinging her feet and bobbing her head about so the blue hat sways precariously on top of her head, rather like how an owl would sway on top of a branch during a frightful windy night.
I ask her if she can read my mind. She just grins at me. Against all my good intentions, I feel my arm twitch again.
Here's something I prepared earlier:
NEVER LET ANYONE STEAL YOUR SPARKLE.
Today I:
+ Walked a thousand miles to my house because I thought I could. And I did, so that worked out well.
+ Caramelised my onion on one side only for no apparent reason.
+ Made two bracelets while watching The Bloodhound Gang sing in a public toilet.
+ Cleaned my room with so much enthusiasm that I felt like a criminal and took a nap.
The fairy on my shoulder glares at me, 'No you didn't, I did that!'
-You did not!
'I did! And I cleaned your shoes with that special powder!'
-You poured cornflour in them and made a sandcastle.
'And put it on the internet! I'm famous now.' And the fairy sitting on my shoulder then whips out an iPhone and starts pressing buttons furiously as if she really does know what she's doing. I choke on a piece of raw carrot in shock.
*
A secret organisation at the back of my fridge turns everything to ice. I'm not sure how I feel about this, as I already have star-shaped ice cubes, and this appearance of non-star-shaped ice is testing my beliefs about how ice should be formed.
Yes, I'm that person.
And in the time it takes to be that person, my dinner has cooked itself and arranged all it's contents on the table ready for me to tuck in.
'THAT WAS ME!'
I feel like a very small something is glaring at my back...
If you don't hear from me again it's because I'm being held hostage in the faery realm; forced to wear silk gowns and laze about in flowered gardens, listening to harp music and laughing at all the gnomes attempts to chat me up!!
~Sorry, did I say hostage? I meant voluntarily went to heaven..
Don't vote for the crazy ones.
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