Fatto
In my second year of uni, one of my housemates moved out in the first week of term to get married to a girl he'd met off the internet. And thus commenced a search for a new housemate. Everyone who enquired about the room seemed a little bit crazy, so when we were introduced to a friend of a friend, she seemed like a breath of fresh air. OK, so she was about the size of a healthy killer whale and her penchance for wearing black and white merely emphasised the resemblance. The poor lamb's last house had been firebombed and she was without accommodation.

So we took her in.

A week later, some of her friends, squaddies, came round. They were a little strange, but we thought nothing of it. Fast forward a week. E, one of my sane housemates is cleaning the house. She lifts up the rug and discovers a massive turd. Human. She alerts the house to the discovery, and Fatto (slightly uncreative, but it really did suit her; sometimes I forget her real name. Incidentally, it's Rachel Travers, and if you ever meet the girl, remember my story) suggests the possibility that it was the visitors from last week. Frankly, it was plausible. We were very lax with our housekeeping and the house often smelt a bit rancid. The turd is cleaned up.

The next night, Fatto announces she can still smell shit. And it starts turning up everywhere. Along the tops of the kitchen cabinets, in the (broken) microwave, on the curtains. This time, it seemed to be mostly canine. Still could be the squaddies, we think. Then it appears on top of a bookcase that had only been in the house for two days... Fatto had found it. She claimed that it must have fallen from the ceiling when we mentioned that it had appeared a while after the squaddies' visit. Suspicions were now starting to raise. But for some reason we could not bring ourselves to believe the unbelievable. So we didn't mention it. If anything, we were beginning to get a bit frightened.

The next few months passed without much incident, except Fatto stealing a large bud of skunk from me. That pissed me off somewhat; it eventually resurfaced blu-tacked to the bottom of her boat-like slipper.

S's laptop broke after Fatto had been in the room with it for a while. It looked as though it had been trodden on by a thirty-stone monster, and when it was mended, whoever had last used it had been looking at porn. Vile porn, involving cacti and arseholes. A friend of ours later said she had tried to seduce him by showing it. Didn't work.

I mentioned I'd rather touch shit than bins. The next day, my purse leapt out of my bag, into the bin, somehow losing all of its contents.

Then the death threats started. I'd like to say they were terrifying, but in actual fact they were hilarious. Myself, S., and E all received threatening texts. We knew they were from her. She had a certain style of texting, that borderline idiot command of grammar and punctuation. She was trying to spin it like there was somebody watching the house, out to get us all. We didn't buy it.

"S- someone's sending me death threats," whined Fatto.

"Oh, don't worry," said I, "we're all getting them. I don't really think they're actually menacing. Look like they come from a complete idiot. Anyway, we've called the police." I then began an elaborate lie. "They can trace a text message to within 15 feet of where it was sent. Whoever sent it will be caught easily, and face up to 10 years in prison."

Two minutes later, I receive a text message from my stalker saying, "sory" (sic).

She later gave out the telephone number she'd sent us death threats from to her mates as her "new number". Mad and stupid.

We called the landlady, in an attempt to have her monstrous arse thrown out of our house. Unfortunately, our landlady refused to help, as Fatto had been gleefully infesting our house for about six months without paying a penny of rent.

Fortunately, she moved out a few weeks later. Just sneaked out of the house without a word of goodbye. Thank God.

Remember how her last house had been firebombed? After she left, a letter arrived for her. We, naturally, opened it. It was a court summons, for her hearing... for arson.
( Queen of Cheesecake, Thu 5 Apr 2007, 23:35, Reply)