/gradually catches breath/ So! That was a heck of a thing! *whew* Um, I'm not— I'm not like a professional interior decorator or anything, but I have an idea or two about what we can do with this space. Really make it pop. Especially with all this human blood everywhere.
Okay. Okay. This is not a problem. It is NOT a problem. No sirree, it's an opportunity, that's what it is. An opportunity for CHANGE that just happens to smell strongly of copper. SO! First things first!
All right. These 194 pounds of perfectly mundane refuse won't pick themselves up, will they. Seeing as things are already... in pieces... double-bagging them with a couple of garbage bags seems like the way to go. The scented kind, for choice. Let's not go doing anything foolish like leaving them in OUR dumpster. Hah. No. That'd just be inane. We wanna make sure we deposit these parcels in several locations that are nowhere near our fixer-upper of a home. Which is presently coated in human blood.
A quick Google search reveals that we do NOT want to use bleach, actually. Color ME surprised (and covered in reddish-brown stains)! Looks like a mild detergent, some ammonia, and good old fashioned elbow grease are what's called for.
Huh. That is not really coming out.
Well, let's just rip up that old carpet— needed replacing anyway, it wasn't really tying the room together— aaaaaand shit. That soaked straight through. Right into the hardwood floor. Balls.
Huh! That... greatly complicates things! Maybe we could use the place as a haunted house! In... March... How delightfully eccentric!
I don't suppose we could try to re-finish it, give it a nice... redwood vibe. No. That would require lots more blood, and MORE BLOOD IS NOT THE ANSWER RIGHT NOW.
Well I'm pretty sure I've gone and screwed myself out of that security deposit. Which is fine. It has to be fine. Everything is fine.
/nervous chuckles turn into forced laughter, giving way to anxious sobs/
Pull it together, pull it together. You're a WINNER! And WINNERS DO NOT CRY!
/several more minutes of barely contained sobbing/
Okay, okay, get it out... Nobody every handled five liters of coppery red regret without feeling something about it. Right? It's only human. Yessir. Only human, to have feelings. I am STILL a person. Yes.
I must purify it with fire.
Welp, talk about killing two
innocent people birds with one stone! While I was out discreetly getting rid of those garbage bags, I ran into a gas station! What luck!
Turns out you can actually buy a whole lot of gasoline in those metal cans. Most places sell 'em in plastic these days, but I felt like it was important to respect the classics.
So. A little splashy-splashy. Wow. That scent is STRONG. Whew! Nope, I'mma power through that growing dizziness, because I still have work to do! Now where'd I put that lighter...
Incidentally I really can't suggest you try any of this at home. At all. It's a bad idea (WINK WINK) and you just shouldn't do it. This is definitely not the way to solve aaaaaaaalllll your problems.
Okay! So, it was really nice knowing you all, but I think this is probably a good time to just cut my losses and skedaddle. Yes sir.
/voice raised as onlookers gather/
TOO BAD ABOUT THAT PLACE. I HEAR THAT FELLOW WAS A REAL QUIET SORT. VERY UPSTANDING, VERY NORMAL, CONTRIBUTING MEMBER OF SOCIETY AND ALL THAT. HE'LL SURE BE MISSED, NOW THAT HE'S DEAD AND ALL.
/crab walks away from the blaze, trying not to get lost in its orangey perfection/
That was a heck of a lot easier than I thought it'd be. Looks like the coast is clear. Yessir, smooth sailing from here on—
Can I help you, officer?