Dr. Dume ~ The Doctor is In

Father's Day happened a few days ago. I forgot about it. Father will be furious. Just because he's dead is no reason to miss out, he says. 

I haven't seen him lately. He's probably sulking. He'll materialise next time I go to take a few pennies from the dungeon hoard. That always gets his attention. It is true that 'you can't take your money with you when you die', so Father has adopted the alternative approach. If he can't take it with him, he's staying here with it.

Senga claims I have no right to expect any kind of Father's Day treatment until the Dumelet emerges. This is unfair. I've done my part. What more can I do? On the other hand, considering that Father's Day presents include home-made explosives, poisons, deadly insects and swords on frayed threads hung delicately over sleeping heads, perhaps I shouldn't be in too much of a hurry. I can sleep easily at the moment. It won't last.

All this is severely curtailing my writing. What with Senga's constant requirements for attention, her unreasonable demands for money to buy food (we haven't had a visitor in ages), the agitation of the Ferals at the light nights, the Slimy Swamp Thing calling for a mate all night (it's Swamp Thing breeding season. No matter what's on the ground - diamonds, gold, anything - don't bend over), and the villagers having practise marches with pitchforks and torches, there's no time to think of anything to write about.

Ah well. Best go and apologise to Father again. He can't seem to grasp that the reason I've stopped trying to kill him for Father's Day is that he's already dead. It does seem futile to go to all the trouble for a present he already has. Perhaps I should just give him a card.

With a scorpion inside. That might cheer him up.

I wonder... would the ghost of a scorpion sting the ghost of a human? It has to be worth a try. He'd really love that.