The Mattress Wizard

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As the sun sinks and the sky beckons a dim welcome to the settling of the dusk, a mattress wizard will arrive at your door. His captivating pear-like physique and eyes overly magnified by incredibly large, round glasses (regrettably reminiscent of those with glasses-induced motor impairment) are a formidable presence. The fellow who once seemed like the harmless, familiar mascot of the nearby bedding store is now a brooding omen of all that is to come, and several invasions of privacy at inconsistent occasions.

The reckoning[edit]

During his nocturnal presence, the mattress wizard will acquaint you with a homely and comfortable bed. This is not to be mistaken for the ordinary household unit, however - his discerning glare upon entering the store can determine the kind of bedding which is most suitable for your tastes; your personality; your essence.

Perhaps you are in fact a potato, and thence deserve a couch. A convertible couch, without sheets, which therefore never needs to be neatened and prepared. Always be ready with a presentable home for various guests who may or may not be the mattress wizard, and always be willing to invite others to sleep on the couch.

Or you may be a rather overwrought potato, in which case you would probably prefer something a little more comfortable. Allow the gracious wizard to upgrade you to a common household bed, with the added benefits of being extremely close to the ground like an aspiring futon. This will help avoid the possums from dwelling under your bed, but is unfortunately not an ideal strategy for preventing the infestation of fnurdles in your cupboard. The mattress wizard shall not be held responsible for any possum-related injuries and ailments which may mysteriously appear over the course of the night.

Waiter, there's recklessness in my soup. I think this calls for disco fever.

What if you are not a potato at all? What if, deep within the fabric of your soul, you are actually Evel Knievel? Comfort is only secondary to adrenaline and unnecessarily decorative helmets. Your bedding shall have rockets with the power of a thousand vows of silence installed to allow you to sleep soundly in the neverending depths of space. A little too soundly.

The aftermath[edit]

All of the drawers have been raided, leaving only the faint aroma of someone else's pizza hotdogs lingering in the air beside the dust motes glimmering in the moonlight. The mattress wizard has struck, and this time with a vengeance. The pervasive thought worms its way into your consciousness that perhaps a game of jacks whilst waiting for your currant buns to arrive would be a splendid endeavour. It becomes apparent that these thoughts are not your own, and that perhaps... you revel in that notion. You glance towards the television set in dismay; after all this time you chose to ignore the niggling urge not to trust that crafty wizard and his rather midgetly salesman associate. Noticing your diary left open to its latest page on the nearby dresser, you suddenly run for the mailbox only to find that there is nothing there. You trudge back into the house, helpless and desperate. With a swift backwards motion you sink into the comfortable cushions and springs of a brand new mattress.

They told you it would be a low, low price. Nothing so much as this.

See also[edit]