Bloody silly GUESTS

This is the worst house to do bed and breakfast in in the whole of St Ives and that's saying something. It's really tall and really thin, and all the rooms are stacked on top of each other like a game of Jenga, and you think if you open a door all the lot is going to fall down. It's all stairs really, no rooms, nowhere for people to sleep, just stairs, stairs, stairs. I say there's nowhere for people to sleep, that's not exactly true, there's loads of rooms for what mum and dad call our GUESTS but nowhere for me to sleep because there are GUESTS in my bloody bedroom and I have to sleep in this shitty little turrety room right at the top of the house. It's like the gunner's turret on an old wartime bomber, and if I fit my head and shoulders up into the dormer window I can swivel round and go ack ack ack ack and pretend I'm shooting all the bloody silly GUESTS.