The Package - Take 8

I was about to doze off while eating my sweet, old friend.  Sherry trifle is my favourite .  My ulcer’s been with me for years.  Unfortunately I dicovered that my gastroenterologist is staying in this hotel,  He knows me and I know he’d disapprove of my choice of dessert, so I took it back to my room to eat in bed, away from prying eyes.  And today had been an especially exhausting day.  So right after dinner, I snuggled in with my bottle of Gaviscon, the only thing that helps my heartburn, my recently purchased copy of the latest Harry Potter Film, on bootleg DVD.  I know it hasn’t  been released at the cinema yet, so I know that’s pretty novel, and the peace and quiet of a September night in the penthouse suite of the Park Lane Hotel, 

With a sweet sip of the good stuff, page one.  I didn't even get to the first word, when the Westminster chimes of my well-priced doorbell rang. 

“Room service’’ I heard, from outside the door.  Strange, as I hadn’t ordered anything.  

I went to the door and found nobody there, only a package wrapped in brown paper waiting for me to adopt it as something new of mine. 

I have this thing about packages ... I just have to open them ... and when I opened this one, my life did take its turn. 

I picked up the small, flat package,and ripped off the paper.   It was another DVD, unmarked.  I took the illicit Harry Potter out of my portable player, and slipped this one in.  After a second or two of static, and wavy lines on the screen, there was Dr Jeffries, the old devil, shaking his head, and wagging his finger at me. 

His stern voice issued from the speakers.  ‘’No more alcohol-based desserts for you, my friend.  I was watching you tonight, and I saw you sneak off with that bowl of trifle.   If I catch you again, there’ll be trouble.  You’re only cheating yourself’’

The End

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