So we carry on where we left off. Here is James's lift to work, which is about to leave. I can't remember what job James is supposed to do.
Wait a second... Who is this??
Why it's our new housemate, Dave Tobbison!
Now that he has arrived, there is no rush in meeting his new friends. Dave is simply content standing outside in the snow and reading the paper. That Garfield, eh, Dave? Always up to his old tricks.
Meanwhile, inside the house, Me and Carl eat our breakfast whilst James sits in the only chair and talks about the theatre. Mark peers out of the window at the snow, giggling like a schoolgirl and thinking of Dave. Ross is at work.
Well seeing as Ross greedily kept the whole bed to himself all night, causing us some discomfort, he can clean up the mess himself.
Ah, well apparently possessing the ability to clean up a food fight qualifies Ross to perform life-saving procedures in the back of an ambulance. At least that means we'll get more money.
Ross is home! Let's spend his well-earned money on beds and chairs.
It appears that when Dave moved in, he brought all of his house-buying funds with him. Time to really splash out and get us some nice gear!
Pictured: A sofa; a PC; a huge TV; a telescope; a strange exercise gadget; a telephone; a painting easel; and a double bed.
Not pictured: Dave's very pissed off bank manager.
You can't see it clearly in this picture, but Carl has very visible stink lines coming off him, I do not hide my disgust. Dave and James discuss the merits of overly-swanky clothing.
After a long night of sleeping outside, James takes a power-nap in the new bed. Carl ensures that any visitors will get the full force of his stink.
Dave shows us his artistic side, while Ross does some neighbourhood watch. Carl does not believe that Dave should be spared the stench that he has to live with.
Carl gets some beauty sleep. Me and Mark express our joy at having a brand new sofa.
Okay... So, I was tired. And this was the only bed available...
It means nothing that I got in bed with James and instantly dreamt about kissing.
Not content with forcing Carl to sleep outside all night, Ross comes into the room where Carl is sleeping and starts playing computer games, with the volume turned right up. Carl wakes up and decides that he still hates Ross. Mark dreams of himself. Notice that the Mark in his own dreams looks slightly less Asian than the real Mark.
Earlier there was an event that I sadly missed screenshots of. Some guy with a beard and a kilt stormed into our kitchen and shouted at Ross while he was making a sandwich. Apparently Ross now hates that guy so much that his thought bubble sets on fire when he thinks of him.
Nothing has happened for a while. Me, Mark and James have slept; Ross has walked around fuming about that Scottish guy; Dave has been eating; and Carl has lain on his bed thinking about each individual house member. James has just got up and put food in the oven.
Don't just stand there, somebody call the fire brigade!
Somebody call them... Anybody?... James looks like he's about to do a runner.
Somehow, despite the fire raging for half an hour now, and the guys in the kitchen screaming for just as long, Me and Mark remain asleep. Carl, on the other hand, is awake. I get the impression that the horrified screaming soothes him.
Carl has woken up! He immediately does what any sane man would do, he sprints into the kitchen and jumps into the fucking fire!
No, Carl! Fire burns! We've been over this!
Carl is a human torch at this point, and Ross decided that he wanted some attention, so he too set himself alight.
This is where I decided enough was enough and ordered Mark to phone the fire brigade. Which he does. And then, Mark, being trained in the art of health and safety, finally does the senseible thing.
AND RUNS INTO THE BLAZING ROOM! Thus, becoming the third person to be set alight.
The fire brigade is here! Wait... one of these people isn't a fireman, and isn't one of us...
Carl? Where's Carl?!
DAMN YOU, GRIM REAPER! DAMN YOU STRAIGHT TO HELL!
People deal with grief in different ways. Dave, having never met Carl, mourns him. Mark takes the trash out, but he does it quite solemnly. James - who basically caused Carl's death by setting the kitchen on fire - eats cereal.
I take the loss quite well, by retreating into the hothouse of insanity that is my mind.
I mourn Carl how he would want to be mourned, by acting like a chicken.
My insanity comes second only to the desire to poop. Ross passes out within inches of an empty and ready made bed. I order James to clean up the ashes, so that I can buy us new appliances.
"Five there are, yet six there were set out this morning. Tell me, Mark, Where is Carl? For I much desire to speak with him."
James makes a snap decision. And that decision is that he has not caused enough damage in this kitchen, so he will tarnish our new sink by taking a spongebath in it. Nobody was in the shower at the time.
mark stands within three feet of the fridge and complains about hunger. What a dick.
Ross' transport came during the fire. He had more important things to worry about.
Mark, using logic I will never understand, got some food out of the fridge, then put it down right infront of the oven. Then he got some more food out, and complained because he couldn't access the oven, and neither can James. Mark is literally the worst person to live with.
This looks like a scene from a Whodunnit. Nobody would suspect the timid old chinese butler!
MARK! STOP GETTING FOOD OUT OF THE FRIDGE! YOU ARE NOT HELPING MATTERS!
Now that Mark has put food items on every surface, nobody can even make food that doesn't require cooking. That means people can't eat.
Ross! No! Mark has caused Ross to starve to death.
I do the only thing that I can to prevent Ross from dying, I beg the Grim Reaper to spare him. Will this heartfelt plea for Ross' life thaw Death's icy heart?
No, no it will not.
Ross, my friends, has died.
I removed the obstructions to prevent more deaths.
James is cooking pasta, but wait a second... Did he not just put food in the oven moments before?
Dammit, James! It is not humanly possible to be this inept at cooking!
Not wanting another incident, I ordered Mark to call the fire brigade straight away.
James once again situates himself furthest from the flame, giving onlookers the impression that he was an innocent bystander.
Crisis averted. Although, I have once more misplaced my marbles.
And here is the end of a very long day in the Tobbington household. We finish with James going to work, and mark passed out in the kitchen. I still do not know what James does for a job.