Chapter 2 - Hey Look! An Eagle!

''Mark, where in the hell are you going?'' I said almost tripping over my robes.
''To visit my parents!'' He said looking over his shoulder and almost slipping over in the slush.
Great. Not only is it Christmas, but I had an hour to get this guy into the Sorting Office que before Veera shuts for the night. And with a soul like Mark's on my shrivvled hands, completing said task is going to be like counting many small children who've just been force fed sugar.
''You realise they won't be able to see you.''
''Then I'll move things about or write in the condensation on the living room window.'' He snorted.
''That's classed as a haunting! You do that and you'll be stuck in that house for the rest of your afterlife! Well... Unless it gets burned down or soemthing... But that's besides the point! I can't let you do any haunting!''
He spun around his heel, again, almost falling over in the slush as he did so.
''Are you saying you care for me?''
''What?'' I squeeked angrily. ''Piss off! The only thing I care about is gettin' me job done so's I can go 'ome an' put me feet up!''
You can tell when I'm getting a tad annoyed. I tend to start using abbreviations alot...
He spun back round on his heel and stamped off through the slowly thickening slush towards a brightly lit house. After much slipping and sliding and cursing about water in one's shoes, I followed him into the heavily decorated house.
Seriously. This one small house put the Blackpool illuminations to shame. And then there was the power cut in Liverpool on Monday night... The whole city went out!
''When did you put these up?''
''Huh? Oh, Monday. D'you like 'em? I put the Sanat up on the roof meself.'' He grinned.
COINCIDENCE!? We can only hope the Hagan family don't extend their blinding display next year, otherwise the whole of England might suffer from a bout of chronic blackouts.
''Don't touch that!'' I snapped, smacking his hand away from the fridge and it's colourful array of magnetic letters.
''Ow! Don't touch what?'' He said with all the innocence of a Fox with Chicken feathers stuck to it's bloodied muzzle.
'' I know what you were gonna do with those magnets!'' I hissed.
''I was only gonna leave a small note.''
''Don't you get all uppity on me, mister! Don't you remember what I told you earlier about touching things?''
''... Uh...'' He faultered as he stood infront of the battered old fridge gaping like a beached fish.
''Eeeee, what a crackin' li'l toaster!'' An older, female voice squeeked from the over decorated living room. ''Such cute li'l yella feet! And a li'l yella plug to match 'em too! Oh I miss our Mark...'' It sniffled.
''Mum!'' Mark cried and ran through the dividing wall.
''Would this toaster happen to have a metallic green body and power cord too?'' I said ponderously as I followed him into the dark, cluttered room.
It was small. It was musty. And somewhere, under all that tinsel, an old ciggarette smoke stained wall paper from the late seventies lurked, hiding in the seasonal jungle of tinsel, waiting for it's prey...
''Yup.''
Then I saw the metallic green and yellow toaster.
''Of all the toaster on this planet, you had to choose that one!'' I grunted.
''Yeah. Apparently it's no ordinary toaster.''
''That's one way of putting it...'' I could've swore he was looking at me.
The toaster, I mean.
''I hear it's travelled the world.'' He said in awe as his dad, whom resembled a cross between a prune and a gnome, inspected the kitchen applience.
''Where did you get hi- it?''
''e-Bay.'' Mark said simply as his parents waddled into the kitchen with it.
''Figures..'' I sighed and followed them into the kitchen with Mark to have a gander at the happenings.

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