If you were to look across my flat, you would be presented with an interesting sight. Really, you would in any situation - I mean, you're probably noisy anyway, and to look 'across' a flat, you'd probably have to take a wall down, which is also interesting. But I digress, and with bad sentence structure...
Anyway, you would notice that my flat was flooded, almost to the ceiling, with water (Could have been custard, don't get snippy). If you watched for a little longer (Again, sorry for the interruption. A little longer though? What does that mean: Longer from when? Relative to what?) you would be further interested to see me, soaking wet, emerge from the water and pull myself onto a ceiling fan. The water has been flowing into my flat since my last update, and it seems nothing can stop it - fire proved useless, electricity betrayed me, and throwing baby sharks at it was just stupid. My doors, before you ask, are air-locked - my fear of gases that turn you inside-out got the better of me - and open inwards, so they offer no escape. My windows, similarly airtight, I cannot open.
For days I took refuge in the fridge, but without power, the eggs went off, and it smelled bad. Emerging, I found one shark had eaten the others, absorbing their powers through a Satanic ritual. Now, he's eyeing me up casually. Very casually, in fact. He's sitting on my sofa, underwater. Soon, he'll probably laminate a newspaper. There seems to be no escape. I always mocked those "how will you die" quizzes dotted around the Internet, but it seems they're dead on. And I scoffed when they said a Demonic shark would eat me in the living room. Learn from my mistake gentle reader! Forward chain mail, quick as you can! Tragedy could befall you all at any moment!
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