A nice cold dish of revenge

Or how the universe always conspires with Him

Arriving home tonight there was a parcel on the bench. Now it might be addressed to Him, but rather than rat through the bag...

When did we start to get all parcels in plastic bags? There was more mystique to a box firmly wrapped in brown paper, string, a life time supply of Sellotape (sticky tape to other parts of the world) and stamps from exotic locations.

 He had left it like an offering.

Now to the untrained eye it would look like a peace offering, but the minute the fingers touched the bag one recognised it for what it was; bait. Dropping the parcel one backed away slowly and made a wide birth. See one small slave knows what's in that bag...

It's full of nasty, scratchy costumes...

Including a much threatened Playboy bunny costume...

So it really isn't in one's best interest to open the damn parcel at all...

Bastard!