SAVE QUICKOS!
Pausing only to wonder why he still appears to be referring to himself in the third person, Mike levers open his sleep-filled eyes... only to see a moist-eyed, trembling Quickos, gazing mournfully down at him.
"Goodbye, Mike. Quickos has to go now."
"But... Quickos! You can't leave now! Mike was looking forward to playing so many games with you today!"
"Quickos has no choice, Mike. Big Blogger has told Quickos that he has to leave the house NOW."
But WHY, Quickos? WHY?"
"Quickos doesn't know why, Mike. But he's sure that there must be a very good reason. And Quickos always does what he's told, even when it makes him sad. So good luck, Mike. And remember: Quickos will always, always love you."
"NO, Quickos! STOP!"
Not wishing his little puppet friend to see him in the nude (for if there's one thing he doesn't do, it's pyjamas), Mike reaches for his dressing gown, hanging on a hook behind him. But when he turns round, Quickos has vanished.
A tight knot of anger begins to form in Mike's stomach. Quickly wrapping his dressing gown around his slender naked form, he leaps out of bed, and - without so much as checking his hair in the mirror - makes straight for the garden.
Within seconds, and before anyone can stop him, Mike has clambered onto the roof of the Big Blogger house.
(Standing directly below him, Clair makes the mistake of looking straight upwards as Mike performs his final leap, the tails of his dressing gown billowing in the breeze. Clutching her hands to her mouth, she dashes straight back indoors, visibly blanching.)
"THIS IS AN OFFICIAL PROTEST!", shrieks Mike, wild eyed, tousle-haired, and dangerously un-moisturised. "QUICKOS MUST BE SAVED FROM EVICTION! HE HAS HARMED NO-ONE! I SHALL NOT DESCEND FROM THIS ROOF UNTIL HE IS SAFELY RETURNED! HOUSEMATES, ARE YOU WITH ME?"
The other housemates look at each other in consternation. Should they join Mike's protest, or should they try and talk him down from the roof? And whatever will Big Blogger say?
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