#reversesimon

Happy Birthday! I saw you talking about really ancient extinctions recently, so Gunter and I made you some Gingerbread Trilobites! :D

Unnerving, everything about this bloody house was unnerving, not least the fact that on paper he owned the place, had paid for it himself years ago when it had seemed like a good idea to have an untraceable bolthole just in case, long before he’d got cocky enough to park Dib in it like so much inconvenient lumber. The house was his, but he’d turned his back for five minutes and it seemed to have been filled to bursting with scips and insane pitfalls and rooms that shouldn’t exist, dangerous alien technology and portals to other dimensions and sarcastic spaceships and fridges that accused you of needing eggs and he, the rightful owner, found himself swept off into the garage like a box of unwanted junk.

Yes, he’d been in a foul enough mood already, and when he ventured out of the garage into the dimly-lit TV room and promptly tripped headlong over a collection of hard-cornered things stacked precisely up to shin-bone-height, it was the last straw. The stack tumbled, and with a couple of words that were best left untranscribed, he snatched up the first of the wretched things that came to hand and slung it overarm across the room as hard as he could.