“Say, kid” The man in the hat levelled his gun at me and squinted through the smoke curling up from the cigarette clamped between his teeth. I said nothing, the man was clearly insane – I’ll be forty next year and this was East Kent in the twenty first century not Nineteen Forties L.A.
“Are you gonna tell me more about stickers for the wall or am I gonna have to ventilate you” He meant wall stickersof course, any fool knew that but I thought it best not to pick him up on his mistake.
Strange things have been happening to me lately. At first I put it down to a misspent youth finally catching up with me and paying me back but now I’ve put two and two together and come up with wall stickers.
They don’t tell you when you buy them that wall stickers are a portal into a parallel dimension so maybe my house is on a ley line or something but one thing’s for sure, when I stuck the stags head up above my fireplace I didn’t expect a braying ruddy cheeked toff in plus fours to march through my sitting room with a smoking rifle slung over his shoulder.
I put that one down to an evening on the single malts and thought nothing more of it but when I put the sticker of the bamboo up in the hall next to the bathroom I was very surprised to find myself sharing my morning ablutions with a giant panda. It turns out, fortunately, that they’re quite placid creatures even when they find their breakfast is made of vinyl and goes down funny. When I regained consciousness I found the wall sticker still stuck so it must have been another example of the effects of over indulgence. But why are there panda shaped footprints in the flower bed by the side gate?
The irate Frenchman that came with the sticker of the Paris metro entrance was something to behold, ranting as he was, about ‘Les Rosbifs’ and ‘Decals de Vinyle’ before marching out of the front door; and the crocodile that appeared after I had stuck the Papyrus sticker in the downstairs loo fortunately had some difficulty navigating the stairs so I was able to make myself scarce via my bedroom window.
But what was I to do with the man in front of me now? How was I to know that my cool sticker of a skyscraper skyline would get me in this kind of mess? I decided to brazen it out and fixed him with a level stare “Wall stickers are self-adhesive vinyl silhouettes in a wide range of styles and colours that are easy to apply, easy to remove and don’t damage walls. They are UV resistant in direct sunlight for five years, offer superb value for money and are the answer to any interior designing question” The man grunted, un-cocked his gun, squinted at me a bit more and then left.
Next week I’m getting a sticker of Marilyn Monroe.
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