Dear sir, this letter is to apologise for my terrible behaviour over the last few months. You have brought to my attention (several times) that I need to stop moving furniture in my room at 3 AM. I will admit that that even though I am a professional comedian, my true passion lies in random acts of house redecoration. Too often I see large cupboards and heavy chairs sit complacently in convenient positions and feel a fiery rage course through my body. I do not tolerate lethargy, least of all in furniture and therefore reposition these items until their arrogance is checked.
Being a highly intelligent gentleman, you would’ve guessed that I cannot simply move these items in the day. Oh no, that would be too obvious. This is what the furniture would expect! Instead, like a cautious hunter I stalk my prey, waiting for them to let their guard down. And when they least expect it -in the dead of the night (you could say 3 AM)- I pounce on them! Scraping each item slowly across the floor, fulfilling the prophecy of the ancients.
Imagine my surprise, then, when you said furniture was being moved on nights when I was not at home. A simpler minded person might have come to the conclusion that you are an idiot who has leapt freely into the soft arms of insanity -but not me. I am a thinking man, much like yourself and vowed an oath of Blood and Torment (#4 on Buzzfeed’s list of best oaths) to get to the bottom of this.
Now the obvious conclusion was that my apartment was being haunted. I wasn’t too concerned by this, because I’ve had numerous run ins with ghosts in the past and have become quite adept at dealing with the paranormal. That very night, I drew a circle of sacred salt around me and summoned OoLong, ancient spirit of eternal anguish (#17 on Buzzfeed’s list of ancient spirits). As the tenuous threads of reality snapped apart and the fiery hell that awaits all of us revealed itself, I was very disappointed to be informed that my apartment had not been scheduled for haunting and would I be interested in haunting my own apartment? No thank you, OoLong. Not yet.
Who then, could be moving this furniture? Dragging it in a way that caused the sound to scratch the ceiling and echo upwards? There was no possible way that these sounds were the wild imaginings of an insane person. I needed to investigate further. There was one more option.
I have dabbled with human cloning to an extent that some people have called ‘excessive’. That being said, I am very conscientious about tracking and organising my clones, making sure that our paths don’t cross in contrived sleep-destroying ways. Last evening I put out a message out on the Whatsapp group that we maintain -called ‘mahself’ with much irony- asking whether any one of them was sneaking into my house and moving furniture around as an inside joke that only clones will understand. Again, the answer was a resounding ‘no’. They were all attending a startup summit in Latvia as I had asked them to do.
Which brings us to the curious events of last night. You came to my house at 3 AM, apoplectic and sweaty, demanding to know the reason for my movement of furniture. The real mystery here is that you woke me up to tell me this. We now arrive at Einsteins least famous but most important thought experiment. If a man wakes up another man to tell him to stop waking him up, and both men are not travelling at the speed of light, then are you fucking insane?
It’s a subject that still causes a hush in many academic circles. Rest assured sir, I will get to the bottom of this. I have assembled a web of cameras and mental health professionals who are tabulating a mountain of data as I write this. With grit and determination, I will solve this problem before I enter the after-life: an apartment with surprisingly cheap rent and furniture that stays where it is.