Little Miss Obsessive

 

 

Little Miss Obsessive lived in the town of Goodenough, in a modest but not completely dilapidated house at 23 Okay Street.

 

She didn't particularly want to live there, but she was trying to escape from a troubled past, so she had to accept somewhere where the landlord took a weekly cash rent, no questions asked.

 

 

 

One day she decided she couldn't stand living in an odd number, so she blew up number 22 with some Semtex she found in the cellar.

 

This by default made her house number 22, which made her happier, but she was still not completely satisfied.

 

 

 

She didn't live in a factor of ten!

 

 

 

"Hello!" she said to the occupant of number 20, as Mrs Bumble answered the door with a somewhat troubled look on her face, probably due to the home-made HazMat suit Little Miss Obsessive was wearing. "We have had reports of unstable radioactive substances leaking into the foundations of a building at this location. Mind if I take a look around?"

 

"Um..." said Mrs Bumble, because she didn't know what else to say.

 

 

 

"Thank you! Won't take long!" said Little Miss Obsessive, pushing her way past Mrs Bumble into the house.

 

"Oh dear, oh dear..." said Little Miss Obsessive, as she walked around the house, holding an old transistor radio out before her as she went. "My goodness, this simply won't do at all."

 

 

 

"What is it?" said Mrs Bumble, who was by now more than a little concerned.

 

"I am afraid," said Little Miss Obsessive, "you will have to vacate your house immediately - unless, that is, you want to suffer an agonising and prolonged death, due to your skin melting and your organs slowly liquifying."

 

 

 

Mrs Bumble didn't want to suffer an agonising and prolonged death, due to her skin melting and her organs slowly liquifying.

 

 

 

"Hooray!" cried Little Miss Obsessive, as Mrs Bumble swiftly departed, with just an old ALDI shopping bag containing some spare underwear and a packet of pasta.

 

But Little Miss Obsessive's elation was short lived, as she realised there was a lot more work to be done.

 

 

 

The carpets needed scrubbing with a toothbrush.

 

 

 

The grass needed cutting with nail clippers.

 

 

 

The toilet needed cleaning with a wire brush (which then needed bagging and incinerating).

 

 

 

Not to mention...

 

The walls that needed painting.

The curtains that needed dry cleaning.

The crockery that needed alphabeticising.

The tiles that needed grouting.

The light bulbs that needed polishing.

 

And...

 

 

 

The hands that needed washing with surgical soap thirty seven times.

 

 

 

And then washing another three times to make it an even factor of ten.

 

 

 

But when all the work was done, she looked around the house and thought...