4/2 Monday Morning - Our House in the middle of Our St.

[senior_tempter]

Screwtape walked into the kitchen of his new home as he fixed his tie in place. He furrowed his brow at the coffee maker and it started up as if shamed into doing so

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[blackadder_nth]

Edmund tried to roll the crick out of his shoulders that had come from spending the night asleep at his desk. He had a map in one hand, a key in the other, and wandered up the street muttering, "Our House? Who in the name of a dozen blind cartographers thought it would be clever to name it 'Our House' with an address that is just 'in the middle of Our Street'? Bloody stupid."

He found Our Street eventually and walked the horseshoe until he reached the upper edge - the middle - of Our Street. Where the house with a little sign out front let him know he'd reached Our House.

Key in hand, he went up the front walk and into his new, single home, as befitted the school's principal.

[senior_tempter]

What that the sound of a key in the front door?

Must be the maid.

He started to pour himself a morning drink when he realized that the coffee machine had... coffee... in it.

How stupid!

He scowled at it and the coffee curtled before turning into tea.

Much better.

He hoped the maid brought milk.

[blackadder_nth]

The house smelled like coffee... and tea.

His contract hadn't said he'd have a maid... Edmund experienced a brief sense of panic that Baldrick had somehow found him, but that familiar underlying smell was absent.

So, a maid. It was only his due.

Edmund left the map and key on a table near the door and went in search of tea.

"Hello?"

[senior_tempter]

Oh, not a maid, but a butler.

Pity.

"You're late, I'm usually up earlier then this." he said sitting down with his tea. "Please tell me you at least brought in the paper with you... I do get the paper don't I? Make sure that I do."

[liquornimal]

As the two gentlemen right bastards gentlemen hellspawn men bickered, a brown rat crept its way quietly out from under the fridge, sticking its furry little nose into the air and sniffing about.

Alas, all it could smell was the hops-y scent of its own damp fur.

[senior_tempter]

Screwtape was otherwise occupied with snarking at Blackadder and didn't see the rodent on the floor.

He set down his tea cup.

[liquornimal]

Aha! A beverage! And it seemed to be unguarded. The malt rat scuttled a bit further along the floor and started looking for a quick route up to the cup.

In the world of the malt rat, all beverages are malts. And the malt rat was thirsty.

[senior_tempter]

Screwtape continued to bicker discuss the situation with Blackadder.