There I was, trying to toast some crumbs of stale bread for my supper. The rat-chewed wiring shorted out, and — once again — the west wing of the Mansion went up in flames. The firemen arrived in the nick of time to quench the blaze. But in a panic I ran outside without my shirt on, and those damn paparazzi who hang out at the gates caught me like THIS.
I really must cut down on those bowls of Lucky Charms.