The front door wouldn’t open no matter how hard I tried, so I concluded that it was locked. I unlocked it and went inside. I didn’t want to enter necessarily, but I had forgotten my key inside. I guess it would be more accurate to say that I had forgotten a key inside. It was my duty to retrieve it from an open safe in the master bedroom. I opened the front door with an expired Discovery credit card I had found inside an old ostrich leather wallet in a bar I used to frequent called Australia, or perhaps the bar was called Austria. I can’t quite remember due to the fact that I used to refer to the bar affectionately as America, and when I think of that bar, I only remember it as America.
I have lived a long and interesting life; my life has been truly endangered thrice; two of those times were inside the very place I was now returning to. The first time I almost lost my life was shortly after first setting foot in the dreaded mansion; who would have thought that someone would actually have a white wolf as a house guest? If I hadn’t shot that ferocious beast in the throat multiple times with my Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum, I’d be dead.
The second time that I almost lost my life in this horrible place is not worth mentioning due to the fact that I still can’t believe it actually happened, not to mention that I’m still in shock. I’m out of bullets; I can’t see out of my left eye; I may have three broken ribs, and I can’t believe I have to go back for that miserable key. To say I forgot the key the first time would not be totally accurate. It would be more accurate to say that I forgot the key on purpose. I went through so many hardships in just being able to place the key in my grasp that I figured once it was in my possession, my troubles would multiply like a gremlin that was thrown blindfolded inside a potato sack into the Dead Sea. So with the safe deposit box open and the key in my peripheral, I just walked out of that infernal mansion in a confused daze.
As I opened the front door for the second time, I was greeted by darkness. Then suddenly, light was upon me. An old man was sitting on a black leather sofa across from me. You found it, I said. He was holding the key I had left in the open safe in the master bedroom. “You’ve seen better days,” he said. I’m sure you’ve seen worse, I replied. He laughed without smiling, which worried me. “You still owe me a favor,” he said. I’m the one who opened the safe, I retorted. “Opening a book and reading a book are two different occurrences,” he said. What do you want? I asked in disbelief. “I want us to fight to the death for this key,” he said with a serious countenance. I owed him a huge favor, so without saying another word, I took a grenade out of my sole coat pocket, I pulled out the pin, and I threw it at him with full force, then I immediately stepped out of the house while slamming the front door shut behind me. After the massive explosion, I decided to wait for a few seconds before returning to search for that dreaded key. There was no longer a front door, so that was one less thing I had to worry about.
