Man Steps on Plug

Christ, I can’t believe I left that damn plug lying around. I shuffle from the kitchen with my cup of lukewarm tea, muttering to myself about how today’s been one disaster after another. Bills, kids’ tantrums, the bloody cat puking on the rug – it’s like the universe is having a laugh at my expense.

As I’m walking to the living room, I think about the game on later. Liverpool versus United. Should be a good one. Hope the lads don’t fuck it up this time. I’m so lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice that cursed BS 1363 plug sitting like a trap, prongs up, right in the middle of the floor. Who the hell leaves a plug like that? Oh, right. Me. What a bloody genius.

Next step, my foot comes down hard on it. Time slows. I can’t stop my momentum, and BAM! Pain shoots through my foot like a thousand needles. "FUUUUUUUCK!" I roar, my tea flying out of my hand and splashing everywhere, the cup shattering on the floor.

I’m hopping around on one foot like a maniac, clutching my injured one, trying not to fall over. "Son of a bitch!" I howl. "Why? Why the fuck do these things exist? They’re medieval torture devices, I swear!"

The cat skitters out of the room, probably thinking I’ve lost my mind. Good riddance, you furry little shit. I manage to hop over to the couch and collapse onto it, clutching my throbbing foot. I can feel the sharp outline of the plug’s prongs embedded in my skin. It’s a bloody miracle I didn’t just puncture an artery or something.

I sit there for a minute, breathing heavily, the pain gradually dulling from excruciating to just plain agonizing. "Fucking plugs," I mutter, shaking my head. "Whoever designed these things deserves a special place in hell."

I inspect the damage, gingerly touching the red, angry marks on my sole. Of course, there’s nothing serious, just a lot of pain and a few indentations that’ll probably turn into bruises by tomorrow. I sigh, leaning back on the couch, feeling a mix of relief and lingering rage.

The living room is a mess. Tea stains on the carpet, broken cup shards glittering on the floor. I should clean it up before anyone else steps on it, but right now, I just can’t be arsed. I need a moment to recover, to let my foot stop feeling like it’s been skewered by a medieval weapon.

I groan and close my eyes, wondering how many more of these delightful surprises life has in store for me. Probably a lot, knowing my luck. Well, one thing’s for sure – I’m never leaving a plug lying around like that again. Lesson learned.