Move the camera I thought, it will be easy I thought. The camera in Bunnyopolis we decided need a slight adjustment so we could see more of the area, it was only a simple move from one corner to the other but as usual with these things it all got rather messy.
I unscrewed the fixings from the roof and made little holes ready in the new position,a five minute job. The camera has several screws that can be tightened or loosened depending on how much you want to swivel it and this needed to be adjusted before I fixed it in place. Lets just say they are fiddly, even more so when a screw the size of a gnats chuff pops out and falls in a bale of hay. Now I have hit the age where my eyesight requires telescopes to focus properly anymore looking for something the size of a grain of rice in a pile of dried grass is about as funny as accidentally trapping my testicles in a vice.
Without the missing screw the camera just hung limply and had no intention of standing upright which again draws similarities between it and the vice accident, and yes that did occur and no I’m not going to elaborate but I will add I was fully clothed so none of your sordid thoughts, I know your type. Anyway, I found the screw about six foot away from the bale I had taken apart. The buns weren’t amused and gave me a leg poke in disgust as if to say ‘stupid’ we knew it was there. With screw found the camera regained its normal stiffness, all it needed now was to be fixed in place.
For some unfathomable reason they have housed one of the screws directly under the camera housing so getting to it and fixing it in the ceiling requires gymnastic dexterity and the flexibility of being eight when you could trip and bounce down the stairs without harm. I however do not share this dexterous feat and found myself leaning backwards, neck twisted and hunched in a corner whilst I balanced on one foot and wriggled around trying to locate the screw. It was about then I was startled by a tap on my head in an empty Bunnyopolis and swung around frightened what I might see. Is Bunnyopolis haunted?
No it isn’t, the fly tape we hang to catch flies in Bunnyopolis had stick to my hair, not only that as I swung around it wrapped around my face and across my mouth, flies and all. I don’t know if you have ever touched fly tape but let me say its like no other sticky stuff you have ever touched before. It’s like a cross between the old Bostick mixed with treacle and superglue.
I screamed, well, I tried to scream but just swallowed flies so I did the next best thing and panicked to an audience of three startled rabbits. Pulling the strip off my face removed enough hair so I didn’t have to shave for three days and came off with the noise of ripping calico taking half an eyebrow with it too. I got enough off to shout Jayne who rushed in thinking I was having some kind of seizure, I must have looked a sight wobbling about with hair strewn everywhere and fly tape flailing around me as I tried to keep it away by holding it like one would a poison snake. It was still attached to the back of my head and I dared not rip it off as quite possibly I would have tore a nice little bald path up to my already balding crown making it look like a path to a picnic area, albeit a bare one.
It took a good half hour to extract the tape without too much hair loss, I’m still finding flies though in the oddest of places and I found my hands were covered in a sticky tackiness that allows me to perform miraculous lifting feats by merely brushing objects. Only yesterday I managed to lift a chest of draws by simply placing my palms on the top and raising my arms. I dare not stroke the buns for fear of lifting them up and eating is a nightmare as Jayne has to now cut everything and throw them into my mouth. It took three hours to remove a banana from my hand after I fancied a snack.
So top tip, if you have the misfortune to get fly paper in your hair never ever tug at it unless of course you want the equivalent of a Brazilian to your head and never speak with a mouthful of flies, Bluebottles do not taste like chicken.