Shag Pile

Hello sweets,

We finally confronted Leroy about all his dreadful hoarding last night. Finally right! 

It all came to a head after a box filled with boxes fell on TONE., flattening him on the shag pile. Awful I know. I mean who even has a shag pile these days, I ask you! And before you say, Emily wait, shag piles very retro, very now. Wrong, they gather all sorts of rubbish, you can't get them clean, they smell something chronic, and for what? So your floor can have a bit of chest hair. No thank you. 

Anyway, he was there for a few hours apparently, you know, 'til like, Major and I found him. We went for a walk to the bypass and back to get out of the flat. Claustrophobic, you have no idea. Oh, but he’s fine now sweets, don’t worry. Think the shock was worse for him than anything else. He’s going to rest for a bit. He’ll be fine.

We called a “flat meeting”... Oh, hang on, that was like a joke wasn’t it. Like, to do with TONE. getting flattened. But anyway, OMG, the thought of “group meetings” makes me itchy. Awful, but it had to be done I'm afraid. 

Think we were mean’t to have it in the kitchen, but it was far too crowded in there, filled with those dreadful barrels of cooking oil, so we had it in the bathroom with Mr. Howler's TV blaring below us. I tell you what, the walls are so very thin in these maisonettes.

We stood there for a while, in a state of awkward silence. Noel Edmonds muffled under us. We were all so quiet, that even Noel's shirt was audible. Though aren't they always, especially that purple floral one. Oh dear.

Leroy started telling us about the great awkward silence of 1986. That went on forever, 'till I eventually pushed Major to butt in with *deep voice* 

“That’s all very... interesting, but Leroy, can we talk about this stockpile of salvaged stuff in the flat please?” 

“We’h, aye. It’s all good stuff in’t it. Oh, din’t show you lot mi’ latest find did I ay... Look, here it is...” pulling out a flannel from under his jumper, “I only need a small one.”

Minor clapped sarcastically while Trevor, I think, swooned for that flannel a little bit. 

Well Christ, I’m blabbering now. The top and bottom of it is, Leroy agreed to sort through and get rid of some of his clutter. So looks like we’ve a weekend of lugging around boxes and cleaning up. 

Fun fun *shudders and cries inside*.

Love, 

- Emily Quinn