Wanna hear a horror story ?

I've treated myself to a nice home cinema system and earlier this evening I did my usual thing of disregarding the instructions as much as possible, and made my own decisions as to what goes where.

Upon realising that things weren't quite right, I decided to move things about a bit, switch a wire here and there. You know the drill.

At this point I will say that the only thing I collect these days are the Sideshow / Weta statues. See where I'm going with this yet ?

Anyway, as a punishment from the home cinema gods for not reading their carefully worded instructions properly, as I moved slightly to my right I realised that there was a certain inevitability about my right hand connecting with a small polystone statue of a certain creature that answers to the name of 'Smeagol'. Sure enough, down he goes.

However, it was good to see my reactions haven't been slowed by advancing years and having once been considered (by me) to be a pretty decent footballer, an automatic reaction was to stick out my foot as it fell, cushion the statue and attempt to trap it as one would a football.

Result ?

In my haste to prove that even though I might look as fat as Diego Maradona these days, but I can compete with his ball skills, I forgot that I didn't have any shoes or socks on. I think I stopped wailing about 15 minutes ago, the little toe on my right foot has nearly stopped bleeding and I'm sure that amputation of said toe won't be necessary. Just.

And what about the sweet, wonderful Smeagol, I hear you cry in unison ? Things will be ok now that he's back in a safe and secure place, won't he ?

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Will he $%^& !!!!!!!!!!!!!

As the little %^&*() landed on my foot, his right leg sheared completely off. As did his head ! The remnants are now sitting in front of me as I type this obitury. Well, I say remnants, but there is one spooky side to this that I haven't been able to solve.

I can't find his head !

Anywhere !

I've turned the place upside down & it's nowhere to be found. It's just sitting here. Somewhere. Waiting. Waiting for an opportune moment. Waiting for me to move a book, a CD or DVD cover, maybe a chair. And then the full horror will hit me as those eyes stare into mine, as I scream (I'm a bloke so I don't scream, but it's good for the story).

He's just waiting for me. Waiting. Waiting. Waiti.....................