Knock on the Door

Finally, a day off work. You've been working overtime for what seems like months, projects to finish, arsehole managers to deal with, clients who you dearly want to tell to fuck off. A day when you can stay in your robe, eat leftovers from out of the fridge and slob it up spectacularly. And, of course, entertaining yourself with a whole bunch of specially downloaded porn on your big-arse TV. You settle down in front of your TV, stick your hand down your boxers and choose your porn. Heaven. Nirvana. Paradise. And bloody well earned.

Which is why that sudden sharp rapping at your front door is such a rude shock. You're not expecting any mail. Your neighbours know better than to disturb you. Everyone in your workplace knows there will be if you're disturbed on your day off. Who the fuck dares disturb your peace?

Your first instinct is to ignore it until whoever it is goes away. But you pause the movie you're watching and change the channel to the security camera you have monitoring the front door. There you see two God-botherers of some variety, both female. One about 50 and ugly, the other one around 20 and very pleasant to look at.

A thought enters your mind. Maybe you should answer the door. You drag yourself off the couch, tie your robe at the front and drag yourself the ten metres to your front door, groaning and grumbling at the effort. You pull open the front door and stare at the two women. The older woman has started her spiel when you interrupt with the following, immortal words...