The pervy landlord
Through the distorted glass I can make out the figure of a tall, broad shouldered male leaning against the door frame. I guess that it must be my landlord, Mr Klay, as he had rang only a few hours earlier to remind me that I was due an inspection on my house. Once a year Mr Klay comes round and checks over the house with a fine toothed comb looking for anything he could fine me on. Up to now he has never found a single thing. I slide the latch out and open the door to his beaming smile. "Ah...