The room in which I currently reside:
And the window out which I look:
And that bedside jolly time of inspiration and love.
A young man.
Walking down streets or across stone patios… Sometimes he felt the urge. You know, why not? All precations must be taken of course. That the people inside the home aren't awake, that no one was out for a midnight stroll with their dog. Well, some people know where they're dawgs be at. They be at the porch of an unsuspecting fool. Oh ho ho, they're going to get it tonight. Every inch of this young man's love, on the patio window no less! That clear sliding glass… there's just something about it that screams, "Cleanse me… oh yess…yes… YES! Cleanse Mmmeeeeeeeee! I'm dirty, and I need be made pure again! Make me slide like I've never slid before!" The man stood for a moment in contemplation and self admiration for the fine deed he was about to perform. But hesitate he could not, for time was of the essence! No one could know what perverted peeping tom would come upon his show. So he stood before the window, caressing the air close to the pure crystaline glass with his ever so slightly greased fingers… He now plotted his course, his flow, his pattern of spray. He investigated the pane, the upper lip and trim, and finally stooped to look over the sliders upon which the window would rest as his fluids would seep into them sending them sliding, smoothily sailing upon the platinum frame. The man took stance, and slowly dug into his pocket preparing his device. Unsheathing its cloth cover the spicket gleamed in the moonlight. First he gave it shake seeing to it that its inner chamber of fluids were dis-settled and ready for duty. A few pumps on the handle… a few more… rapidly and furiously he whipped his untincil into a frenzy! And then it came! Errupting from the nozzle it shot, a slightly frothy white sent flying, flying… Wasting no time he aimed true and gave the slider grooves a quick coat of the premium track oil he bought the night before at Home Depo. Finishing the job he whisked a stripe of windex where oil had met glass and quickly streaked it free of blemish. And then he was off, prancing away into the night. For he had done his duty. He was the sliding door fairy. And now that special, happy, lovable little couple had a patio door that would never be the same… It would slide, as it had never slid before.
You want to go home... to Eriador.
