Bedtime Dilbert

There was no reason for Dilbert to worry, but he still did, it was
like a thing to do to fill the void. Or that is how it started. What
void, I here you ask. Well there was no void now. Now there was just
obsessive anxiety about everything and anything. Had he left the taps
on in the kitchen? Had he locked the back door, had he locked the front
door for that matter? Were the windows shut? Did he live in a safe
area? It was safe, he thought to himself&;#8230;&;#8230;wasn't
it? Oh, Jesus, he thought, stop it now, just relax.

Dilbert had tried self hypnosis, but couldn't relax enough to hypnotise
himself, he just found his mind wandering into his "current concerns".
He had tried Yoga, but worried about what he looked like in his
catsuit. He had tried Buddist meditation, but worried about making too
much noise for his neighbours with his little bronze gong. Mine you he
thought to himself, would they ever hear it at all over the constant
techno base that reverberated through his wall. But, all the same he
couldn't bring himself to strike his gong.

Dilbert was at a loss right now, he had been pacing now for three
hours, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. If asked,
Dilbert wouldn't of known why he was pacing, some minor concern had
precipitated a pace some time ago and now he was in the loop. Only a
distraction of some sort would break the loop and no distraction had
occurred for the last three hours and so Dilbert paced on.

Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards and then it happened.
The door bell rang. Bing bong, it went, bing bong, bing bong, bing
bong. Dilbert stopped in his tracks, who was that? Dilbert vexed. He
approached the frosted glass cautiously. He didn't recognise the crazed
outline, at all. Who could that be? He was not expecting anyone. He
opened the door.
"Yes." He said tentatively
"Hello, Mr Burt&;#8230; Mr Dilbert Burt?"
"Yes that's me." Answered Dilbert.
"My name is Terry, I'm from Littlewoods, I have some very good new for
you, can I come in." Dilbert hesitated, he didn't like letting anyone
into his house, "ok, you can't stay long though."
"Fine" said Terry "This won't take long at all"

Terry stood next to Dilbert in Dilbert's front room, he looked up at
the tall man, Terry was six foot but even so Dilbert who, Terry
noticed, was in tattered socks only, towered above him. "Can I sit
down" asked Terry, "Ummm, yes, sit there." Said Dilbert pointing at a
scruffy looking armchair. Dilbert sat on his best chair, a hard wooden
armchair that he thought was good for his back.

"Well, Mr Burt, you are a winner."
"A winner." Asked Dilbert
"Yes, a winner&;#8230;do you want to know how much you have
won?"
"Are you sure? I have played the Pools for twenty one years and I have
never won, are you sure this isn't a mistake?"
"No, I can confirm, you have won, and you have won, Mr Burt, twenty
five thousand pounds." Terry passed the check to Dilbert, who, at first
looked at it suspiciously. Terry shook it at him urgingly. "Take it,
it's all yours" said Terry with a big smile on his face.
Dilbert took it nervously and stared at it, turning it over a few
times.
"Would you like to make a statement for us to publish on your win, Mr
Burt?"
Dilbert looked up quickly, "Oh no, I would rather not do that."
"Ok, that's fine, then I will be going."
Terry stood up a waited to be shown out, Dilbert sat and stared at the
cheque, then eventually realised Terry was standing there and lead him
to the door.
"Goodbye then" said Terry "and congratulations"
Dilbert waved and peered from behind the door nervously looking up and
down his road.
He shut the door.

Inside Dilbert began to pace, a cheque for twenty five thousand pounds,
made out to cash, what if someone had heard, he felt extremely
vulnerable, what was the time? Five twenty, the banks were shut. Oh no
he thought, someone will definitely break in tonight, knowing I have
all this money. First he hid it in his sugar jar, then felt that too
obvious. Then under his bed, too obvious he thought. Then he put it in
his pocket, but could not rest. He paced backwards and forwards
continually for hours. It was eight thirty now, they would be breaking
in soon he thought. The cheque was driving him nuts, why him, why. He
tried to sit down, but couldn't. He must get rid of the cheque he
thought, he put on his coat but when he got to the door he dare not go
outside.

That's when he thought of it, he must destroy the cheque. With out a
moments hesitation he went to the stove and set fire to the cheque, he
watched it burn and relief washed over him, until suddenly he worried
about the fire hazard, getting some water he put he blackened remains
in and it hissed. What a day he thought, now I might get some sleep.
And Dilbert climbed the stairs to his bed.