Tuesday, 4th May 2010.

Star Wars Day Massacre

"Why did you buy a statue of an angel?"

"What?"

"The statue of an angel that's in the garden."

"Don't do that to me. You know how scared I got. They're just uber-villains that don't even move, and then they kill you, just like that."

"I noticed."

"It's all right for you! I was the one having to look at the screen constantly, not blinking. I couldn't even turn my head away. You were happily burying your head in a laundry basket, not bothered at all."

"I was sorting the washing!"

"Yes, while I had to hold the fort! I know it was a job you needed to do but you let the side down this evening, Emily. You wouldn't have cared about laundry if that thing had snapped your neck. You'd be dead. I'd be sitting in here and your disembodied vocal chords would have paged me on the internal phone, saying 'Come to bed, James, come to bed now,' and I'd have wandered along the corridor, and there'd be this great mix of fangs and stone and then lots and lots of blood."

"Hey, why'd you put it in the kitchen? Why'd you move it?"

"All right, *stop* it. This is creeping me out."

"James? Come here and look. Come and look, James. It's really good, but you have to come and look. It's OK, promise. Come and look. Come and look, James. All right, I'm actually scaring myself now. I don't think I can go to the car and get my book. Will you come with me and get my book?"

"Not a chance."

"Oh well, it'll have to stay there..."