The Man with the Broom

They’re at it again, those blasted kids. It never ends.

All they do is make noise. It always starts in the afternoon. First, comes the music and I use the term loosely. It’s that heavy metal garbage with all the screaming. Whatever happened to jazz? Next, there’s the thumping. They incessantly shuffle around playing those damn video games. I think it’s something called an XBox. It’s either that or they’re looking at that idiot box. These young whippersnappers need to read a book, something to stimulate the mind, or find a job.

I don’t even understand how they afford this place. It’s $2000 a month and the only time they ever leave they come back with these loose women. Then, the moaning commences and that’s worse than the music. That’s when I get the broom. They’re not the only ones that can thump. I always start off low with a little tap, poking away at the side wall. It always gets ignored. They get a little louder. The bed starts creaking and the loose woman starts to moan. I tap louder. I don’t stop but neither do they. It ‘s like a battle in the night.

Tonight, I’ll end it though. It’s 11:23 p.m. and the one they call Popcorn just came back. They’re talking that low, intimate talk. I feel sorry for the poor thing he’s in there wooing. I wonder if she knows he has venereal disease. In a whopping ten minutes, he has her clothes off. “Oooohhh feels so good,” she moans. Here comes the noise. But today I’m not grabbing the broom, but the BB gun. I cock it and “Phew!” There’s one through the wall. “What the hell?” says Popcorn. I cock again and another one flies through. The bed creaking stops. “Is that your neighbor?” says girl. “Fire in the whole!” I cackle. “AAAAHHHH SHIT!!!” screams Popcorn. I bet I’ll never hear a peep from them again.