So, what have we learned this week? Or it may be longer than a week. We have learned that Kevin never finished school and must be unemployed. How does he afford such a lavish lifestyle? How can he pay for an extravagant house, life and all those inhaler cups? Where does the money come from?
Thankfully, with the help of our army of scientists, we have managed to work out the answers to these questions. I was going to invent an invention (and it would have been a GOOD invention) however this was not required.
In order for Kevin to keep up appearances he follows this very strict, very organised regime:
8:00am – has breakfast, takes a couple of handy puffs from his inhaler cup, says goodbye to his wife and puts the Changlet in his car.
8:20am – drops the Changlet at nursery, where he can learn about cows, bees and other helpful things.
8:55am – waits until Sarah has left for work then sneaks back into his mansion.
9:10am – takes out his massive sack of rocks, found on the beach, and starts drawing faces on them.
10:10am – stops for a tea break to refill his levels. Drawing hilarious faces really takes it out of you.
11:00am – adds googly eyes and pipe cleaners for limbs to his Kev Rocks. Stops for a moment to take in just how much he has achieved in a few hours.
11:15am – unwraps huge hidden quantities of milk, eggs, plain flour, vegetable oil, sugar, salt, baking powder and vanilla extract.
11:30am – bakes the world’s largest waffle in his humongous back garden.
12:00pm – loads his Kev Rocks into his boot and straps the waffle to the top of his car.
12:30pm – drives to the Corn Exchange to set up shop.
1:00pm – sells chunks of his gigantic waffle to hapless tourists for five quid per bite. If you’re looking for a Kev Rock it’s upwards of eight pounds depending on the size of rock.
4:00pm – gathers all his money up and laughs manically.
4:05pm – throws the last of the waffle at dirty pigeons or, providing there’s enough, sells it to a homeless person as a tasty, makeshift mattress.
5:00pm – picks the Changlet up from nursery, dusting the shards of waffle off his hands.
5:30pm – drives home as though he’s been at a real job all day. Puts the child down and he’s straight back to the inhaler cup.
There’s not a lot to say after reading all that other than, well, maybe I should chuck my job in and do the same thing? Maybe I could take it a step further and build houses out of waffles.
That is all.