have them resharpened!" With that, she wheeled around and headed back into the house, followed closely by Mr. Owner, who was wailing about how much precision scissor resharpening costs, and by his daughter, who was teaching her furby to say "One ten dot twelve!" over and over.
After posting a few dozen red tags around the premises for good measure, the chief inspector gave the lineman a lift to the hospital burn ward, Bob Vila left to exchange the ratchet, and Norm and his crew dismantled the bucket lift because it was starting to sink into the lake that was forming.
By then it was getting dark, the handyman and his friends had finished off all the beer in the rapidly-warming refrigerator (burp), and they all left to find a neighborhood convenience store that still had power.
But when Mrs. Ownerswife walked into the house and flipped the switch to turn on the lights, there was no light at all...
[This message has been edited by John Crighton (edited 02-10-2006).]
