The Afternoon Interruption

Bang.  Bang.  Bang bang bang bang bang.

“What the heck!” I shouted, jumping up from my reclining pose in my room.  The series of rapid-fire explosions seemed to be coming from directly outside my door.  As I scrambled from my bed, where I had been relaxing and enjoying an episode of Doctor Who, I continued to hear more bursts of noise from outside.

Briefly, I wondered if there was some sort of gunfight outside.  I know that our neighborhood is not the safest, and although I’ve never seen or heard any actual fights, the sound of police sirens has become a nightly occurrence.  Should I even look outside?

I cautiously open my door a crack, peering out into our living room.  Immediately, I spot the source of the ruckus.

Several days previously, while my roommate had been away on a weekend excursion, I had taken the opportunity to fill his room with balloons.  Upon his return, he had been delighted by the colorful sight, and had swept the balloons en masse into the living room, where they had covered most of the floor in a dense sea, ever shifting in the gentle breeze of the ceiling fan.  While this had been pleasant for several days, I had quickly grown tired of having to trudge my way through the latex tides on my excursions to the kitchen or bathroom.  Earlier this day, I had requested politely that we reduce the number of balloons in the apartment by a measurable margin.

Clearly, my roommate was willing to oblige.  Gazing out through my half-open bedroom door, I could see him standing triumphantly in the center of the living room, face red, stabbing all around him with a kitchen knife.  Scraps of latex lay strewn across the floor, and as I watched, his plunging blow caught another balloon, which exploded into a shower of rubber scraps with a cacophony of noise.

I opened the door further and caught his eye.  “Having fun?” I asked, as he paused in his slaughter.

“Oh, most definitely!” he retorted.  “Just reducing the number of balloons, like you asked!”

I shook my head slightly, smiling, as I closed the door and the loud bangs resumed outside my room.  Briefly, I wondered if our neighbors were concerned, and if I should expect any police visits.

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