About 150 years ago however, he radically changed his diet from the plants and animals that grew around the house, and started to eat the house itself. He'd rip bits off the walls and shove them in his mouth. He dug under the carpets and ate the floor boards.
It was good. He felt he could do a lot more and make things more convenient for himself by doing this.
He grew big and fat from all of the house he was eating. So much so that his trousers didn't fit anymore. The button popped off one day and pinged across his bedroom.
Discarding his pants and shoes and socks, he continued to eat his abode with abandon - it was delicious. It was easier than waiting for things to grow. It was easier than thinking up alternatives. Then, inevitably, something terrible happened.
He began to poo.
He pooed everywhere. With no trousers to catch the poo, it fell on the floor and smeared all around the walls. It gushed out of him and clung to the door frames and flung up from his barefeet on to the ceiling. Everything was covered in poo and, understandably, people stopped visiting.
With poop everywhere the plants and animals that lived in the house began to die, because they only liked a certain amount of poo and not the tons of it that Man was ejecting from his raw, uncontrollable bumhole. (which should be a band name, he thought to himself)
Man began to get worried about what was going on. His belly hurt and his legs were in a terrible state. He lay on what was left of the floorboards and realised a time had arrived to make a choice.
He either had to control the amount of pooing he did or he had to accept that if he continued to defecate he had to accept that the house was no good for living in anymore.
He realised it was the diet consisting of nothing but his house that was causing the upset and for his property value to begin plummeting.
So he stopped eating his house.
The problem took a while to work out of his body but will power and a large measure of self assurance got him through the addiction he had to his tasty habitat. Soon he was well enough to get back on with making the house better again. He hammered and nurtured what was left and then visitors started to want to come back again.
Maybe one day he'll leave the house if he can work out how, but he knows now that when does he can at least leave something he was proud of. he'll meet new people and tell them about a time when he was a little crazy but got over it thanks to a bit of self confidence and a bumload of bravery...he might even start a band.
@grantsharkey 6/december/2009
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