Day Thirteen

Nooreen stands in the kitchen, chuckling darkly. Creepy, creepy eyes.



I'm not so sure that all this bed-sharing is about warmth-stealing anymore. I'm beginning to suspect it's just that they really like this bed. They can't get enough of this one! It DOES have cool outer space blankets, I suppose. That must be it.



'Hey, Pyke! Pyke!'

'Wha... what is it? It's six in the morning! Why'd you wake me up?'

'I've never crashed a plane.'

'You... what?'

'I couldn't keep it to myself any longer.'



I don't know what she's talking about here. Whatever it is, she hasn't done it.



Pyke is as nonplussed as I am.



Nooreen continues her ominous vigil.



'Thees woman, she confuse me so much-a, I weesh to reply, but she a-make no sense!'



Believe it or not, this is Catriona admiring Pyke. I don't know about you but if someone came over and told me they thought I was a wonderful person with that sort of face, I'd be making the sign of the cross.



'PYKE, I THINK YOU ARE A MARVELLOUS SORT OF PERSON. NOW JOIN ME IN THE LONG, DARK JOURNEY TO THE BOWELS OF HELL.'



Pyke's bitchslap is so swift she is able to return to a 'peace out, yo' pose before Catriona has even registered the assault.



There's no helping her now. All sense of inhibition has flown out the window as Catriona makes an all-else-has-failed decision and attempts to grab Pyke's funbags.



All evidence suggests she succeeded in giving Pyke a deflated balloon-style mastectomy.

Pyke is not a happy girl.



And only to add insult to injury, Catriona tells Pyke in no uncertain terms that she's got a shower in her armpit.

'What the- where?-'

'GOTCHA'

'Grr...'

And then it happened: Pyke poked Catriona in what has been independently verified by experts as a hostile gesture.



'Pyke, that hurt! Just because I caused your mammaries to burst like ripe melons gives you no right to inflict damage upon my own!'



I don't think we're going to have any lesbian threesomes in this household.

Nooreen unleashes her demonic, ocular fury upon Pyke's chest. She's a cruel woman.

I love the way Catriona and Pyke dropped their argument to simultaneously watch as Nooreen entered the room, like some sort of tribal queen striding into the sacrificial chamber.



'NOOREEN, SHE POKED ME, SHE POKED ME RIGHT IN THE BOOBY!'

'Pyke, is this true?'

'... no.'

'Pyyyyke...'

'Maybe a little. It was more of a prod.'



'Pyke, look me in the eyes, and tell me you won't do it again, OK?'

'OK. I'm sorry.'



As soon as Nooreen's back is turned...

'I'm going to cut you up, bitch. STARTING WITH YOUR HEAD.'

Meanwhile...



Jack, unaware of the drama around him, dreams about next-door's adulterous judge, Scott.



'HOLY GRANOLA! Pyke, I auditioned for a movie the other day!'

'Oh?'



'Yeah, I play a cat burglar who thieves precious jewellery and DVD players in Oban. Then I sell them on the black market.'

'Sounds a bit dull. What's the catch?'



'One day I steal an elephant called Richard who becomes my sidekick. As time goes on, we form a powerful bond of friendship and I help him reunite with his family in India. It is a beautiful story. What do you think?'



'I think it is THIIIIIIIS stupid.'



'Nooreen, I have never spun a spinning top under the Arc d'Triomphe.'

Fun fact: Catriona's nose can be used to punch holes into can lids in the event of an opener being unavailable.



Relations are still fraught with bad feeling. Either that or they're sucking lemons.



'Yeah, well I think YOUR collection of eighteenth-century South African wood carvings are cheap knick-knacks that fell off the lorry on the way to an Ikea store.'

'How... how could you!'



Nooreen has long since stopped caring about the feud. Looks like she's playing some sort of skiing game.



My policy of minimal intervention was tested here. Pyke is dying of hunger, but Catriona and Nooreen are busy playing rock, paper, scissors in front of the door. What to do, what to do...



The exterminator has arrived! Nice van... but what's that on top?

... THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM!



Huh? You didn't even look! He's right though... where did they go? Surely none of the Crombies were smart enough to spray the damn things while I wasn't looking were they? It'll just have to go down as One of Those Things.



Jack wakes up and decides to crank out some smooth, easy-listenin' jazz... he clearly hates his housemates.



'Well, the bicycle pump helped, but they're a bit squint still.'

If you're beginning to wonder how this day managed to revolve around Pyke's breasts, I'm going to confess something: so am I.



'They're so... BIG...'

CREEPY, CREEPY EYES.



They really do like this bed don't they? Catriona is watching the tiny TV that doesn't even face the bed. The Crombies often waste their time watching the damn thing while ignoring the gigantic plasma screen in the living room. The only time anyone's turned that on was Scott on Day Three.



'I think if we made some small hats for them, we could really be making our way into a niche market! I've got a tour prepared for you to go all round the neighbourhood demonstrating them for potential clients.'

'... You're scaring me.'

'I thought we could call them Nipple Caps.'



Pyke attempts to entertain Nooreen with other aspects of the fashion industry.

'How about instead of... Nipple Caps... we make necklaces out of seashells or something? Everyone likes necklaces.'

'Pyke, you're not seeing the big picture here. We could do all sorts! Fezzes, sombreros, trilbies... top hats for a touch of class...'

Pyke becomes so embroiled in the conversation she misses work for the first time ever. Only Nooreen has never missed a day's work now.

Anyway, it's time to get someone with friends to throw a party! Catriona, get off that bed and make your way to the telephone!



'Hello, can I help you?'

'Operator, I wish to throw a party!'

'We... we don't offer that kind of service.'

'Just see that it gets done, there's a good man!'

'Wait-' *click*

This time I invited as many as I could to maximise the chances of people coming. Let's see who makes their way over...



Hooray! People came! It's Scott and... Goopy? The strange man with the unappealing shorts has taken up the invitation. Apparently one of the Crombies saw fit to record his phone number.



Gold standard or fiat currency? It's a debate we've all pondered upon in our lonely moments.



Jack is still crooning.

'Hello, I'm Goopy. Goopy GilsCarbo. And this is my friend, Scott. We met on the way to your party-'

'Hi Jack, ignore him, he's a boring git.'

And all the way through, Jack just stared at them wondering who the hell they were.



'Oh, wow, an electric instrument AND IT MAKES NOISES WHEN I TOUCH IT. This is so cool, so cool, so cool, so coo- aw, I wet myself.'



CREEPY, FUCKING CREEPY EYES.



'This sure is one swell party.'

Scott is sadly unaware that musical chairs traditionally has more than one participant.



That's right, Nooreen, you tell him.



Oh, what a beautiful mornin',
Oh, what a beautiful day.
I got a beautiful feelin'
Ev'rything's goin' my way.



Pyke's broken the downstairs bath! D'oh! How brainless do these guys have to be to break a bath? On no less than three occasions? What are they doing to the damn things, opening the taps with hacksaws?



'I'm a barbie girl, in the barbie woooorld!
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!
you can brush my hair, undress me everywhere
Imagination, life is your creation!'

'Goopy, I fucking hate you.'

'That's not your line!'



[insert emo poetry here]



Scott plies his advances on Nooreen but is soundly rebuffed. His wall-eyed look of consternation betrays the war of passion raging in his heart. For shame, man, you're married now.



Catriona mysteriously swaps beds and dreams of mice. Or not mice. I don't know how these thought bubbles work.



'You know... if you're not doing anything later this week, I thought we could book a hotel room one night, meet up, and ah... fry some eggs.'



'I know a nice place near the red light district. You bring the oil, I'll bring the eggs!'

Pyke has fond, yet sad memories of the cockroaches that once crawled through the kitchen.



Scott, you manwhore you.



Since Pyke's not doing anything interesting, I get her to fix the bath. She's doing well until a glowing green tentacle makes its way from the toilet, slithers up to her, and, this is pretty gross, starts making fart noise renditions of Yankee Doodle Dandee.



'FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!'



Hell, I'd forgotten about that. Where are the guests? Well, Goopy's still playing bass with Jack and Scott... Scott's disappeared! Must have buggered off home after being continually rejected by Nooreen.

As for the party being a snoozer... I'm absolutely overwhelmed with indifference.



Goopy leaves Rainbow Cottage. I'm not sure many people would go to a party and wind up playing electric bass for six solid hours, but Goopy's special. He's out there to break records man.



Let's call that a no.

Nooreen's carpool pulls up outside. It's an ambulance again.



'Hi, Nooreen.'

'Hi, Brandi.'

'... so I heard about the llama.'

'Just drive. One day I'll leave this all behind and start up a business.'

'A business?'

'Yes. One day my name will be synonymous with Nipple Caps.'

'... I'll just... drive now...'



Pyke makes tart comment on Catriona's accuracy. This is actually the first time any of the Crombies have actually played a game together. I'm gobsmacked.



For no apparent reason, Pyke starts miming that she's driving a car and peeping an imaginary horn. I don't believe I need make further comment on that.



'I'm gonna find someone and fuck 'em up.'



It's definitely the bed. Considering Pyke's stunned, frozen expression, I think she's just heard an ice cream van.



No, it's just Nooreen coming back from work, and wooooooooooah! Look at that vapour trail of bog-marsh quality stench! What's she been doing, rolling around in manure?

She's very sleepy, so she stumbles her way to the spare room bed.



... and falls asleep right in front of it. What a sad, sad sight.

Jack's about to come back from work. Maybe he'll have better luck.



As if. What a collection of no-hopers we have here.



This dream is not Nooreen.

I think tomorrow, I'll get each of them to try a different station, since they haven't even touched them since entering the house. By station, I mean the craft station, the floral station, the robotics station, and the makeover station. Four stations, four Crombies. What could be more perfect?

We'll see how that goes in Day Fourteen! See you then.