Boardania - Tales From The Shed part VII

Changes

It's very odd, but since the doctor went about a week ago, I've been feeling incredibly well. I honestly can't remember when I last felt so good. And I've been noticing things about myself. The first thing I noticed was the stubbly hair that has started to grow on my head. I've been bald for about twenty-five years and grey for about twenty. Suddenly my hair is growing again. And there's colour coming back to my beard; although only what seems to be a distinct black stripe in the centre of it.

The badgers that I have shared this shed with for so long, have finally stopped snarling at me every time I go near them. In fact, the other morning when I woke up, there was a badger nestled up beside me and fast asleep! I've noticed that my finger and toenails are growing and getting much harder. I'm wearing through all my socks and when I try to cut my nails, the scissors just can't manage it. I had to use a pair of wire snips the other day - under supervision of course. They wouldn't allow me to use tools without being watched. The one toenail actually flew across the shed and hit Carrot Boy on the forehead. It opened a rather nasty cut, which bled profusely all over that T-shirt of his. I apologised of course, but I wasn't sincere. It was actually very funny. Especially when I later heard that the casualty department of the local hospital had quizzed him on what had caused it. He was too embarrassed to say it was a flying toenail, so he told the nurse that he'd been in a knife fight against five ninja assassins. Apparently she laughed so hard, she dislocated her jaw!

Other changes I've noticed about myself are the fact that I seem to be able to see remarkably well once the lights go out at night and I seem to be able to tell which gang member is going to come into the shed before they actually open the door. That's the oddest thing of all. It's like I can smell their identity in some sort of way. Take the Dutch woman with the pointy ears for example. It's chocolate and cats with her. The Welshman, of course smells of sheep, and coffee. Mrs. Redpen smells of ink and those bath-bomb thingies. And the Irish tramp; well he just smells. In fact I try to stop breathing when he's around.

Talking about smells - the aroma of badger food in the bag in the corner is starting to make my mouth water. Hang on...
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...Wow! That doesn't make any sense at all. When I first used to feed the badgers, I hated the smell of this stuff. The smell used to remind me of that smell that you get when you are tying up a rubbish bag that has been sitting in the garden in the sunshine for a long time. You know, manky rotten vegetables and sour milk with essence of fag end. Like I say; gross! Now it smells like the finest French pate. I just had to have a little taste of it... Ok, this is a journal, so I need to be honest with myself... I just ate half a bag of the stuff and it was delicious!

What's happening to me?

My new book is coming along slowly. It hard to concentrate with all the rebuilding of the shed that's going on. They are getting ready for the Swedish writer. I don't know very much about her writing, although I understand it's some sort of Gothic fantasy stuff. I suppose I should feel sorry for her, but I'm actually looking forward to the company. They have made a separate room for her, with an en-suite bathroom. Well, when I say bathroom, what I actually mean is that she gets the badger's bath in her bit of the shed.

Talking about books. All the mistakes I've been purposely dropping into the plots in the hope that my readers would suspect that something was wrong, seem to have been a waste of time. I have put in all sorts of inconsistencies and typos, but they seem to have gone un-noticed. I went to the trouble in my last book of writing in chapters and purposely calling Chapter 8, Chapter 7A. I thought that would do it for certain. Just how big a clue do these people want? I thought my readers were clever people, but if they can't see something as obvious as that, then I must be mistaken. I might as well write: "Help me I'm locked in a badger shed by lunatics and being forced to write against my will!" Subtlety certainly doesn't seem to work.

Hang on... I can smell fresh blood, carrots and rabbit droppings. Carrot Boy is coming. Better hide this...
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Phew! He's gone. He really does look silly with that black eye-patch on. The toenail hit him a good inch higher. I know it gave him a black eye, but he's going a bit over the top there. There's a couple of them here that seem to think they are pirates for some reason. The first time I heard them all going - Yaaarrrr! I wondered what the hell was going on. I think Carrot Boy is trying to get on the good side of the kid with the muffin-shaped head. He seems to be in charge of the pirate sub-sect.
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Good heavens! Well that's the strangest thing that has happened for a long time. The Scouser's favourite badger just came up to me and licked my hand. It gave me such a cute look as well. I've been terrified of that thing since I got here. It's nasty and vicious. Even the Irish Tramp's horrible monkey is afraid of it. And it just comes up to me and licks my hand and looks cute - now I really am scared!