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February 25, 2001 (Sunday)
I woke up this morning without the aid of an alarm. So excited I was at the prospect of the end of the revolt, I could barely sleep through the night. But as I was so often disappointed during Christmas, I was again disappointed today. I hopped out of my bed and ran outside, fully expecting all the dishes had washed themselves overnight. To say that I was disappointed at what I saw next is a severe understatement. But soon, disappointment quickly turned to anger. What were these dishes thinking? Deirdre would soon be back in the apartment once again. I am well schooled in the ways of science and can understand the anomaly of dishes not wanting to wash themselves. But poor Deirdre, an innocent like her must be protected from the harsh light of reality at all costs. To have her face this revolt would be to crush a light in the world, and I have not the heart nor the desire to do this.
As disappointment to anger turn, my anger became panic. Queen Deirdre would soon be back, and everything must be set right before her return. My usual enthusiasm and girlish giddiness for her weekly homecomings were quickly replaced by a cold-steeled singular resolve. I must protect our delicate flower from this knowledge. She must never know of this dinnerware revolt. The quickness and resolve with which I made this decision invigorated and frightened me at once. It is said that a man's true character will shine through in his darkest hour, and the bleakness of my situation brought out a strength in me I had never known.
I would be her protectorate and shield her from the evil of these perverted dishes. So, with newfound courage, I set out to wash her dishes. With special care, I thoroughly cleansed her personal cup. Having defiantly kept itself dirty for two days, this required the use of some thick bleach to remove whatever sticky substance was at the bottom of the cup. The screams from the cup were horrifying, but I kept my composure and finished my task. The white cup and the two spoons folded easily under pressure and offered no resistance as I washed them. However, this was not the case as I tried to wash the leader of this revolt. I must have spent damn near 30 minutes chasing this plate and its cutlery guards around the apartment. After all this chasing, it settled back at its original postion as if mocking me quietly. But, the true evil of this plate knows no bounds, as every quiet mocking glare pierced my heart and reminded me of my own impotence. I would not be able to harbor our delicate bird from the reality of this revolt.
Exhausted from my failed attempt to wash this rogue plate, I sat back to rest a bit. It was at this point I realized nothing else in the apartment had cleaned itself either. The bathroom, kitchen, and floors were all an appalling mess. I knew I could not keep up with the young legs of that rogue plate, so I comforted myself by setting out to clean everything else. Queen Deirdre would be welcomed home by the sight of the most immaculate apartment in the world, with the exception of my tell-tale heart, that plate. With renewed vigor, I happily spent the entire afternoon knee deep in bleach cleaning the apartment.
Well, Deirdre has finally returned to roost, and I can safely say that my hard work today has paid off. My deception has worked, and everything is still right in her world. By skillfully keeping the apartment clean, she has not seen that rogue plate which haunts me even now while I sit quietly in my room. A warmth spreads over my heart as I see Deirdre able to enjoy the warm glow of television while the rougue plate sits not but 5 feet away from her. Yes, I can rest easy tonight knowing my deception has worked. It fills me with such joy to be able to keep her fantasy alive. But, I must be ever vigilant. I cannot let my guard down. I know that plate will try to incite more trouble tonight, and it will have new partners in crime tomorrow morning. But, that is a worry for tomorrow. I must rest content tonight knowing I have done all a man can do. Tomorrow, I renew the fight once more, but, for now, I must recline and gain much needed strength. The ticking of its heart has not stopped yet, and it's deafening tone chills my soul and boils my blood.
You will excuse me, gentle reader, as I am no longer able to detach myself and objectively document as a scientist. There comes a time when logic will not suffice, and a man must stand his ground. I have placed upon my shoulder a weight even Atlas himself could not carry, but my resolve is steady, and I will succeed. Good night, gentle reader, and say a little prayer for our haunted Deirdre, plagued by a mad plate from hell.
Oh, man, I can just hear you nitpickers out there saying, "Dude, I knew it. You're no scientist. You're just a freak." Well, then you haven't been listening, have you? Yes, I am a man of science, but above all else, I am a man, and sometimes a man has got to do what a man has got to do. I'm not just fighting for truth now. I am literally fighting for the soul of our poor haunted girl. Damn it, have you no decency? Do we need to step out to the parking lot again? Do I need to give you another ass whooping? Damn, some people just don't learn.
"Ok, ok, dude. I don't want another ass whooping. But you never did answer that question last time. Are you using a thesaurus?" Well, look at the time. My..... how time flies. I really need to rest up for tomorrow. With that, I bid you, gentle reader, a pleasant evening and a fond farewell.