Yesterday, at approximately 2.50pm, the radiator-come-towel-rail officially heated its first towel, having been expertly attached to the wall during a delicate, four-hour operation carried out by the second plumber to get to grips with the unique set of problems presented by the patient.
"It’s about bloody time," said the Radiator-Come-Towel-Rail, speaking at a party held to celebrate the event. "Five years I’ve been waiting for this moment, and to be totally honest with you, I don’t even like towels, so it’s all been a bit of an anti-climax. I really wanted to be an extractor fan – they get all the fun – but my parents talked me into being a radiator-come-towel-rail, and, well, here I am at last. AT LAST."
Minor gripes aside, celebrations in the McNaught-Miaoulis bathroom went on for at least three minutes after the radiator was ceremoniously switched on.
"Maybe this will shut Amber up now," commented Terry. "And God knows, I think we’d all appreciate that."
"I don’t even know why I’m here," said the towel that was heated, who asked to remain anonymous. "They just roped me in at the last minute. I’m hoping there’ll be booze."
The last word, of course, went to Rubinman: "I’m totally going to pee on that radiator later tonight," said Rubin. "You can’t even stop me."
Amber and Terry would like to thank God, The Academy, their families, the plumber who made it all possible and, last but not least, all the readers of this blog who remained with them through the sheer tedium of All Those Posts About a Freaking Radiataor: thank you, both of you.
Next project: tiling the bathroom. GOD.