Letterbox clatters. Huge padded envelope appears on doormat.
Me: Oooooh, early Valentine. *trots out of kitchen excitedly to collect*
Doorbell rings.
Me: *opening door* Hello? *no one there* HELLO?
MS: *Leaping suddenly out of bush and running through door brandishing gigantic red plastic gun*
Me: Oh good grief. *sighs* Hello.
MS: *Pulling Charlie's Angels stance * Hiiiiiiiya.
Me: Hi. And to what do I owe the pleasure this time?
MS: Do I need a reason to swing by and see my favourite little damaged poppet?
Me: Well, no, not usually. To be honest you do just drop in without warning - quite often just when I'm in the middle of trying to piece everything back together from your last visit.
MS: Aaaah, I like to leave a long lingering memory of myself. A bit like an exotic perfume, the taste of high quality dark chocolate, your favourite flowers...
Me: *under breath* A poop that just won't flush...
MS: *suspiciously* What was that?
Me: Oh, nothing, nothing. Erm, what's that?
MS: Oh! This is my new toy! It's a love gun!
Me: It's a what now?
MS: A love gun! A gun of love! You know, bringing kindness and happiness and joy just in time for Valentine's Day.
Me: Mmmm. Yes. I think you may have got the wrong end of the stick a bit there.
MS: What?
Me: Well, love gun, it's not exactly a gun, it's more of a....
MS: Yeeeeeeeeees?
Me: More of a different thing. Anyway, why are you here with any kind of shooty thing?
MS: Ah yes! Back on to me. I am here to present you with this! *picks up and holds out card* Well, go on, open it.
Me: Have you brought me a Valentine's card?
MS: Ooooh, so exciting! Open it and see! Open it! Open it!
Me: Yes, alright, give me a minute. My hands don't work as well as they used to thanks to your last visit.
MS: OPEN IIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT!!!!
Me: *sighs* Right, opening. It's a..........oh.
MS: I know right? Amazing?
Me: It's not a Valentine's card, it's a letter from my neurologist with my MRI results
MS: I know, I know! Exciting isn't it? It very poetically points out everything that's wrong with you after your last relapse! See all that detail of your defectiveness? See how your current meds aren't holding me at bay? See all that rapidly evolving severe stuff? Spectacular isn't it?
Me: Ah...
MS: Yes! Yes! And look at that bit - the bit that says you'll have to choose a new medication. I know how you simply love doing that, so what could be more suitable for Valentine's Day?
Me: Well...
MS: And that's not all. De de de de derrrrrrrrr *waves gun above head*
Me: I can resort to violence?
MS: NO!! Why would you want to be so mean to me?
Me: Reasons.
MS: No, I've bought you this so you can play a nice little game I like to call Treatment Roulette.
Me: Ah.
MS: Yes! This gun is fully loaded with your options. This one has a risk of cancer, this one can damage your eyesight and this one runs the risk of a fatal brain infection! And guess what, guess what - this really is the best bit - it might be that NONE of them EVEN WORK! Go on. Spin the barrel, pull the trigger.
Me: Hang on, don't I get a bit of time to think about this?
MS: Time? TIME? Do you really think you've got a lot of that left?
Me: Well, er...
MS: Well, of course, take your time if you want, but I'd advise you not to take too long. Never know when I might drop in again. *Pauses* Well, best be off, places to be, mischief to cause.
Me: Okay. Bye then.
MS: *waltzing out door* Byeeeeeeee. See you next time.
Me: *slamming door shut* Oh flush off.
:: Bad romance by Lady Gaga
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