30 Poems in 30 Days - #2 Battle With the Saucer People

They arrived spreading filth. The saucer people had invaded, seemingly overnight, and infested the kingdom I call my home. Caked and covered in crumbs and curds, blanketed in forcefields of dust and general laziness - They were simply the filthiest dishes I had ever encountered.

Cups and glasses lay strewn about errant cutlery and stacks of plates, all varying in sizes and patterns, but each more wretched than the last. At first, co-habitation seemed a viable option. I believed we could truly live in peace, and learn from one another. The dishes had other designs. I was lulled into a false sense of security, thinking myself safe from harm, when the girl from down the hall swayed elegantly into my abode.

It was mere moments before she gagged and ran, tears of shock and horror painted a trail over which she would never again traverse. The bastards had tricked me.

"Fool!" They seemed to roar; "Week old tuna in a bowl is NOT an aphrodisiac!"

I was crestfallen at having been duped by their sinister play - Tagged out before getting to first base, when I had hoped for second or better. The sadness quickly gave way to rage. Oh, they would pay.

I threw open my armory, a man possessed, and donned the rubber gauntlets from Dollar-storia. And that was when I saw it.

"Hello, old friend" I said, as I took my faithful weapon, excalisponge, into my hands. With a maniacal grin on my face, and Dark Side of the Moon playing in the background, I filled the scouring pit with boiling water and a chemical solution intended to flay the very skin from the greasy bastards.

Collecting them was treacherous...for they were low of mobility, but excelled in hiding. "How deep does this go?" I cried, after discovering the fortress of spoons caked in crusted yogurt beneath my mattress. Clothing monsters and cd-case banshees all seemed to conspire against me, tripping me underfoot and hiding further of the dishy scum beneath their ranks. But they could not hide forever. I trapped my quarry, and threw them unceremoniously into the boiling chemical pit I set out for them.

Excalisponge in hand, I took to scraping and lashing madly at their bodies, watching their armour flake off in the hideous bath. Suds were their blood. I swear I almost heard screaming, but perhaps that was just the Great Gig in the Sky.

At last...breathless, sweating, and out of music, my assault ceased. I drained the scouring pit and rinsed each dish clean in a ritual of tidy baptism. I kissed Excalisponge and returned him to his home. "Rest now, friend."

And one day, they may rise again. One day they may seek to destroy me in full, as they so nearly did. But little do they know, I possess a secret weapon. An ancient artifact of dirty-dish-destroying power! I wield an ancient scroll, on which is scribed the spell "dishes be done", handed down through the years by the eternal tribe of roommates.