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      How to FA L L  off your Pedestal                       
                                                               
                                                                       
                                             



Worried? worried? Naw! ~ Would you be?
It's going to happen today. ~ Guffaw.
She told me yesterday. ~ Chuckle to myself.
Spent ten dollars at the fortune tellers.
Couldn't help being smart with her.
Well they act so sure of themselves.

"Bet you don't know when I'm going to die."
I smiled at this rich gypsy woman sat in front of me.
"You don't want to know that," she whispered.
"Rubbish that's all this is. ~ Money for nothing
and the chicks for free," I sang, - well kind of.
I'd had a few Buds, and my friends were watching over my shoulder.

"Tomorrow you will fall off your pedestal," she whispered again.
"A long way?" I laughed.
"Oh! Yes! She was spitting venom.
We all had a good laugh at her and headed to my apartment for some more beers.
Next morning and still at my apartment, I realised I had
left my glasses with that old gypsy woman.
Twenty fifth floor apartment and no glasses. "Ah well!"

Blind as a bat though I may be, I have lived here for years.
I managed to find the elevator all right. And guess what?
I missed the OUT OF ORDER sign on the elevator door.
Inside I pressed the ground floor button. ~ I think.
I descended in a bumpy uncertain manner.
This is where I am going to fall off my pedestal. I know it! I know it!

The lift bounced to a halt eventually.
I have no patience waiting for these to work.

The door opened with a bang ~ I charged outttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

I think my last words were:- "Oh Dear! and AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH! --- Emitted at a rather loud volume.

Thirteen floors later a rather loud Crunchhhhhhhhhhhhh and perhaps a small moan could be heard. This could not be mistaken for a mouse.

I'm sure Mr Francis Archibald --Smallpeice, our next door neighbour will complain about the noise at my wake, while his wife has her piggy nose in my cheese cake. And I bet the bastards get my favourite lemon flavour as well...




                                  THE END (literally)