Mr DeFur mumbled, not the normal polite mumbling when one is trying to tell a impotent message to a government agent without being spotted by the evil villain sitting on the other side of the table, no this was the annoying kind of mumbling as though someone and stuck a turnip in there mouth before the after dinner speech. It might have been the think brown cigar clinging to his lower lip or the large metallic teeth that wouldnâ€™t fit on to his gums, but for whatever reason Mr DeFur Mumbled. Because of this you could never quite understand what he was saying, a simple sentence such as â€œcould you please pass the after-dinner mints motherâ€ would be turned in to â€œmur murmur mur dinner murmurmur MUR motherâ€, followed by the dull click of it teeth. So on that particular cool November morning as Mr DeFur stood with his wife, her large talon like nails dug in to his back, tried to explain to his three children why he was leaving them at a rather dull hospital in slough.
â€œMur mur mur taxes murmur MUR MUR love mmmmmurrrrrr parking attendant murmur murrrrr mother MURâ€ mumbled Mr DeFur with a click.
â€œAnd thatâ€™s why children we are disowning you and moving to Spainâ€ concluded Mrs DeFur with a flex of her knifelike nails.
â€œMURâ€ Mr DeFur mumbled in agreement.
Eliza, the oldest child looked around the drab room they were standing in. Virus Hospital stood on a high hill surrounded by lush forests, the unpleasant gravel path, which one mysterious figure in a scarlet robe once scraps his knees on, lead to the solid wooden door at the end. Grime and dust covered the walls, engulfing every inch of dark grey wall paper.
Sissy, the youngest played happily with a doll, unknown then to then youngest DeFur, a knife had been once hidden in doll luckily the spring device had long since eroded away.
Miles, the middle child quietly slipped a magazine in to his pocket, to use as a deadly weapon or as a purpose of entertainment I still donâ€™t know. Because as we all know a paper cut is no laughing matter, unless someone had carefully dipped the magazine in the laughter gas solution, which has only happened once in the history of man kind.
Mrs DeFur filed her nails in the corner, most women use a small piece of wood or metal to file there nails with, although it doesnâ€™t do anything to the nail, it gives one the air of coolness. But Mrs DeFur wasnâ€™t one for such pity acts as she filed her nails with the shinny meat clever, she smiled to herself in the knowledge that she could not only prepare raw meat but file her nails with the same household item.
The small door in the centre of the wall opened and the most unpleasant creature on the planet walked in to room, more evil then the estate agent, more vile then a fast-food worker and meaner then a British taxman, Nurse Ethel Cancer was in a ledge of her own.
â€œGet the kettle on Agnes, just got to see what scum they brought us today thenâ€¦..â€ she trailed of as she saw the DeFurs, smacking a smile on her face that would make Freddy Kruger soil himself, she continued â€œAh Mr & Mrs DeFur what lovely children you haveâ€. Her hawk likes eyes turned the children.