'Ten Minutes Late for Reality' by Lou Morris (c) 1988, 1989, 1991, 2002, 2015. Four:

Four:

   "You want me?  To put my what?!  In your where?!  No
way!"

                                 - What a peeper would        
                                 have thought Lou had said    
                                 to Mary if he and Mary were  
                                 seen through her bedroom    
                                 window the night of his      
                                 little problem.


   Speaking of slightly embarrassing, is that the young
thief currently rummaging through the sock drawer of some
unsuspecting soul would be a teensy bit more than slightly
embarrassed if he was to be found out.
   The man's name is Roy Bluehaul--a totally fictional
character from my warped and fictional imagination.  At
around eighteen years of age and a wimpy one hundred pounds,
his best defense would be, if discovered, to run like hell.
   As to why this person would want to go rummaging through
someone's socks wearing an all black ninja outfit is beyond
me.  Not that I would tell you even if I did know.
   "Mm...  Do I need any panties?" Roy thought outloud,
holding up a pair of Mrs. Morris's undies.  "Nah," he said,
chuckling at his humor.
   "But I could use a color TV!" he exclaimed in his high
whiny voice.  He bent over to examine it more closely.  "Hey,
wait a second!" he sneered, "It doesn't have remote control!"  
He looked behind it, only to discover that it wasn't even
cable compatible.  What nerve these people have! he thought.  
Not even worth the trouble to steal it!  He kicked it as he
stomped out of the master bedroom.
   Out of all the people in this book, I think I dislike Roy
the most.  Some of the other characters lack, at least in my
opinion, a definite personality or charm, but that at least
gives them a reason not to be liked.  Roy, on the other hand,
is a very well developed idiotic flirty geek, not to mention
being a lousy thief.
   And so Roy "the thief" Bluehaul walked, empty handed and
dejected, out into the small hallway and into a smaller room.  
It was another bedroom, only slightly smaller than the
previous one.  And this one was more to Roy's taste--in age
and to the number of items worth pilfering.
   This bedroom was arranged and decorated in a teenager's
taste and style (absurd as that may sound).  Bright funky
posters adorned the pale blue walls while a furry blue carpet
sprouted a nice arrangement of the usual furniture.  As with
any perfectionist's place of residence, everything and
anything had its place, even the clutter.
   "Wow," commented Roy, "This room sure is descriptive.  I
wonder who's house this is?"  He tried to place it in his
mind.  I've seen this place before, he thought.  Or have I?
   Too bad this is a specific perfectionist's bedroom.
   "Oh well," Roy shrugged, "Must be my ESP acting up
again."
   This is Lou Morris's bedroom.
   Roy began stuffing his ninja outfit with various items of
some worth.
   Lou is not going to like this too much.
   "Hey!" Roy gleefully cried, "Socks!"  He stuffed about
twenty or so pairs into his ninja bag.  He did, however,
leave a pair of pink wigwams just to be nice.
   I hate you, Roy.
   Huh?  Roy looked around.  I must be hearing things, he
thought.
   "Wow!" Roy cried again, "Hair mousse!"  He squirted a
glob into his palm, then rubbed it into a sticky lather.  
"Yep; I've got the look," he said while styling his hair into
a replica of a moldy head of lettuce
   He's making an idiot of himself, in my book.  But that's
his job, I guess.
   Roy blew himself a kiss in Lou's wall mirror.
   I'd yell at him but he'd most likely ruin my novel even
more.
   "Hmn..." Roy wondered as he searched under the twin sized
bed.  "A Ouija board?"  He smiled; "I think I'll have a
little fun..."  He withdrew the game box from underneath the
bed and carefully set up the divination board on the plush
carpet.
   He placed his fingertips upon the small triangle and
asked, "Oh Great One, what be my fortune?"
   The triangle zipped around the board and pointed to the
letter R.  Then his hands went to the letter O.  Next came Y,
I, S, A, D, O, R and K.
   Roy laughed, "Ha, ha... very funny.  Now, what's my real
horoscope?"
   Almost immediately, Roy's hand zipped along with the
small triangular pointing device.  This time the letters
spelled, "Tomorrow you will reap some of death's benefits and
go on a long trip with you, yourself and eye."
   Roy shook his head then put the game back in the box.  He
got up then kicked the game back under the bed and muttered,
"At least the first message was easier to understand.  I hate
riddles."
   Hmn, Roy thought as he looked about the room, forgetting
his fate for now.  An answering machine:  a cheap one at
that.  I think I'll have a little fun.  He tapped the 'play
announcement' button.
   "Hi!  This is the Morris family answering machine!" the
machine cheerfully blurted.
   Morris?  I know that name from someplace, Roy recalled,
but from where?
   "--If you'd like to leave a message for me, my parents,
or my dead cat Tiger, you can do so!"
   Oh well, Roy shrugged.  Must be my ESP acting up.
   "--And we'll get back to you!"
   Didn't I think that before? Roy wondered.  Must be my
deja-vu acting up.
   "--Well, all except my dead cat Tiger--he's too busy
being dead!  Thank you!"  The answering machine clicked to a
halt.
   Roy thought of a cheery little message, then pushed the
'record announcement' button.
   Beep!
   "Hi guys!" Roy recited gleefully into the built-in
microphone, "The Morris family can't answer the phone right
now; they're too busy being robbed of everything except this
stupid answering machine!  Bye!"
   Click.