Who ya gonna call? Ian Paisley!

I can't do this anymore, I think Old Knudsen is going nuts, hes afraid to close his eyes at night incase he gets grabbed by the ghoulies.

My house is old, I've been told it was built on an old Indian burial ground, well even old Indians need to be buried somewhere.
I haven't gotten my usual 4 hours of sleep for the last 2 weeks, as I recall it all started the night after Billy one ear's girlfriend kicked him out, poor man doesn't even know why she did it, some women are just mean, its something to do with the moon and the fact that their blood is 70% sulphuric acid, I don't know, the mood of a woman is like playing Russian Roulette, you just never know when you'll get it.

Anyway I think the emotional tension released a restless spirit, for I was in me bed polishing my shotgun and singing it goodnight when I heard a lot of banging about downstairs, I loaded up Henry then I heard the unearthly moans and groans of what sounded animalistic, I hid (bravely) under the covers and that's when I heard a ghostly voice issuing the threat "I'm coming", its lucky I keep a bottle to piss in beside me bed for I wasn't leaving my room.

In the morning I looked around to see what the malicious spirit had done, there was a ghostly ectoplasm all over my sofa and my change jar and sandwich maker had gone, I looked in the fridge and saw that my pasty had also been taken, I had a full 2 litre of coke in there and that had almost gone and now had things floating in it, I suspect my ghostly friend backwashed .

Over by the back door in the corner was what looked like vegetable soup, at times like this I wish I had a dog, well I guess I'll have to get Gavin to clean it then.
I'm no letting a child molesting priest into do an exorcism, they would case out the place to rob, my local pastors still aren't talking to me, it seems that the only room that's safe is my bedroom, that's where I keep me computer and power tools, maybe it was the picture of the reverend Ian Paisley that saved me, that and the dead bolt, I had my Y2K food supply in there but all that's left is the cans of mixed fruit and it would have to be the end of the world to be desperate to eat that shit, the only fruit I eat is potatoes, chopped up and deep fryed the way God intended them.
I was losing too much sleep, my darts game at the Legion was suffering, this was getting serious so I went to my G.P. (doctor to you Yanks)
Dr Reid was off so I got some black fella that could hardly speak English, but he understood me problem, those fellas know all about Voodoo and the like, he sent me for a Psychic evaluation.

I had to go to a Psychiatric clinic and see a Dr Wong, for you know nothings out there Psychiatric is like Geriatric, its for old people such as myself with the gift of 3rd sight.
A lot of the people in the waiting room didn't look very old but you could tell they had devils tormenting them, shuffling about waving away invisible flies, I sat far away from these folks in an empty row of seats, and what do you know, a big fat fucker came over ignored the over seats and sat down right beside me, he was muttering some evil incantation about pretty hair and bobbing his head, I prayed hard to Alien Paisley to save me from Catholics and Demons, (nay too much difference) after a long half hour I was called in.

To my surprised Dr Wong was an Asian, he sat there all inscrutable like, in a beige turtle neck jumper and tweed jacket, his legs crossed so his trousers hiked up showing off his Argyle socks, yep this Cuff Link had gone native.
He hardly looked at me, he just rattled off a load of stupid questions.
"Do you want to hurt anyone?" I gave him my top five (well I hardly know him)
"Do you see things that aren't there?" how on Earth can you see things that aren't there? I then got into a discussion about how Wonder woman can find her invisible jet, he wasn't very helpful with that, he then asked me if I had a suicide plan so I told him my 'Royal' scenario in which terrorists have taken over Buckingham Palace, Prince Phillip as you could imagine was useless, so the Queen turns to me and says,"help me Old Knudsen, you're my only hope" I nod, knowing whats expected of me, as she pins a Victoria Cross onto my chest I reach up and lightly touch her hand, and say,"call me Soren", we look into each others eyes and have a moment, suddenly bullets whiz past us, Phil gets it in the head, I shout, "GO!" and I grab my Bren and lay down some serious cover fire, as the Queen races away she calls out, "we shall never forget you Soren", and even though I've been hit by 20 bullets I take down the terrorist scum and the Queen gets away, sometimes I don't die and we meet up later and I become King but I am willing to sacrifice myself for Queen and country.
You know Asians really don't have any patience, he jumped to his feet and yelled,"you silly white man, you waste time, you waste long time" and then he told me to get out, he had a golf game to go to.
I guess Old Knudsen will have to live with his ghosts, Big Ian will save me until I can fill my house with more photos of him.