Endgame

So I have finally stopped living with the Mad Cat Lady (MCL).

This happened on the 1st of November and our contractual period ended on the 17th of November. I told her I was moving out on this day and wouldn't be responsible for any bills from then onwards. However, it didn't surprise me in the least when she informed me that she wanted to charge me for the cost of having a cleaner in for the 17 days she was living in the place on her own. In addition to this she refused to do any of the moving out chores like cleaning the communal areas, the garden and general maintenance. All of which I had to do on my own. Though to be fair, her useless tosser of a boyfriend did give me a half-arsed hand with the gardening. This assistance consisted of pushing the gardening strimmer across in a random pattern for 5 minutes, running a rake across the garden at random, informing me he had no idea why the lawn mower than used to work before had suddenly stopped working (also coincidentally, MCL informed me she was planning to have a go at the gardening a few days before we were due to move out) and then conveniently fucking off.

Let's talk about MCL's good for nothing boyfriend for a bit.

Their epic love story began 3 and a half years ago. The good for nothing wanker (called Wanker from now on to make things easier to follow) has children from a previous relationship (one of whom was arrested during the tenure of their relationship), a mental ex-wife who calls MCL to give her abuse from time to time (good woman that one) and the rather charming habit of threatening to beat her up occasionally (which I found out rather awkwardly from the person who lived next door on the day I moved my things out. Apparently they'd both rocked up to the Castle Mentalcat pissed out of their gourds and Wanker set upon MCL when it transpired she'd forgotten her keys. When the bloke living opposite our flat asked Wanker to not hit MCL, Wanker promptly tried to beat him up. The brass were called, and after settling their domestic managed to bang the door open and let them in). Now MCL is a punk ass bitch of the first degree. However, that's no excuse to hit a woman. Few things are, like Colin Farrell said in his charming Irish lilt in In Bruges, "there's no excuse for hitting a woman unless she comes atcha with a bottle".

Anyway, this was not something that happened infrequently (the fighting that is, not the domestic violence). MCL and Wanker were constantly fighting and constantly making up and breaking up. It wasn't unusual for me to come home and find MCL pissed and sobbing, smoking in the flat (which is fucking annoying and will be dealt with later in this post) due to a fight with Wanker. At first I tried to speak to her and help her make sense of it all, but after seeing neither she, nor Wanker would change their colours, I gave up and just ignored the problem. The fights did keep escalating, resulting in a period of a week where MCL shagged two people and also got chucked into our flat by a random (she'd been found drunk outside). After fucking the last bloke (who also threw up in the bathroom and did not bother cleaning up) MCL got back with Wanker (and no, she didn't even bother changing her sheets) and they are, without a doubt, still fucking each others' lives up.

Also, during this period, I walked into the kitchen one night to find MCL polishing off the remnants of my Chinese takeaway. When confronted, the silly cunt said she wasn't eating my food. This was odd seeing as she was eating my food from the container in which it'd been delivered. Sadly, the stupid moron seemed to have superhuman capability when it came to ignoring the rules of normal manners.

I arrived in the flat one night and MCL, idiotic, sad, whore that she is, informed me that a few weeks ago she'd drunk the bottle of Pol Roger I'd been saving to celebrate my exam pass, but fear not! She'd replaced it with some shitty Tesco champagne! So all was well, or so she thought. I lost it at this point. The bitch was told to replace it post haste, or else, and to be fair she did do so. The mind boggles at this sheer disregard of social convention thought. If someone had asked me if they could have my champagne, I'd have agreed to them having it, this bitch seemed to think nothing of taking my champagne, not informing me of it and also thinking I'd not notice if she put a crappy bottle of shit in the box to replace it with. How are these people made?

Despite being civil through this whole period after these flagrant transgressions by the Mad Cuntish Lady I cracked and began my disgusting campaign of retaliation. I cannot help, but be proud of the horrible ways in which I exacted my revenge. These included the following:

1. Adulterated her vinegar so the M&S salads she insisted on bringing home were now dressed in a delicate vinaigerette consitsting of one part Taste the Difference Balsamic vinegar and one part of My Taste The Difference Sri Lankan piss.

2. Stealing her tea and coffee at every opportunity.

3. Pissing in her milk at every possible opportunity.

4. Pissing in her food anytime the fancy took me (usually this was because I couldn't be bothered to go to the kitchen.

5. And now, the piece de resistance which deserves to be told in story form.

The bitch constantly stole my butter, this led me to plot a delicious revenge ploy. Seeing as I'd moved out a few weeks before our final move out date I anticipated that she'd now have to buy her own butter. I checked the fridge on the penultimate day, and as anticipated, she'd bought a new box of Lurpak (slightly salted) to replace it. I lost no time in scooping out a good amount of butter from the centre of the box. I saved this butter and then decamped to the toilet with the container of butter (readers with sensitive stomachs or overactive gag reflexes should stop reading now) and proceeded to curl out a lovely shit into the container. I then placed the butter I removed into the container and smoothed it over.

I have no idea what happened after this. I've not heard from her since I  moved out apart from e-mails to the estate agent on which I'm CC'ed.

After trying several time to solve the problem civilly I'd exacted my revenge and it had been terrible. I'd descended to the depths of savagery in doing so. Strangely, I do not feel any remorse about what I did. She was an absolute hellish bitch to live with and I feel exceptionally sorry for whoever it is she winds up living with.

Or maybe the universe will give her the come-uppance she so richly deserves and she will wind up living with someone worse than her! Here's hoping.