A Cautionary Tale

I start by scavenging a few pieces of plywood. Before you know it, I have built a hut. I found some two by fours, and had some leftover nails. I already had a power drill. It was cordless, so I brought it into the back yard, and started adding a second floor to my hut. Soon, I realized, it needed a door. I added a door I found in the alley. I bought a lock set for it. I locked myself out, so I had to tip the thing over. I dug a big, rectangular pit and filled it with cement, and posts. I built a nice, solid frame she on those posts, and then dragged my hut on top of the thing. I had to cut a hole into the ceiling, then add a ladder, to access my hut. Now the upstairs had a door to nowhere, so the whole structure needed a deck. I sunk a proper foundation for the deck, with posts. The whole thing needed drywall. It also needed electricity, so I took care of that before I drywalled the place. I did not need a building permit, because this was just an experiment in building huts out of found lumber. I built a deck to the deck. I built another deck. Soon, the decks needed an overhanging pagoda ceiling. Once built, I was pretty set back monetarily, so I started writing a grant. I never mailed the grant, because the next day, I realized that my hut had started to build itself. Someone or something had drywalled the Pagoda, complete with framed-out windows, so you could still see my original hut, deep within. I had lunch, and a couple of beers, wondering who or what paid for these new materials. I was almost too broke to pay for the beer. By the time I came home, someone or something had added a moat. By next morning, the moat was a filled-in tunnel surrounding the compound, the thing was painted in Cape Cod colors, and someone had added wind chimes. I could almost see it growing now. Here and there, the plywood floor would creak, as an interior wall was added. Soon, that stopped, because there was interior carpet. The place had high-speed internet. I could tell this because someone or something was playing Pandora. I turned, to leave and go to work, when I realized I was walled in. Someone or something had built a palisade wall bounding my property. I have to admit, I freaked out for a few minutes, till I found the door. It had a handsome knocker. There was a new moat. Already, neighbors and strangers from all parts of town were gathering in my front yard, gawking. I walked outside to join them, noticing for the first time that the thing had assumed the shape of a ziggurat. I went to work. By the time I got home, the thing was ten stories tall. Something inside was playing piano. I opened the door, followed a long, red-carpeted hallway to a refrigerator stocked in expensive lemonade, and helped myself to a beer. These were not my beers. My initial building expenses had used up all my beer money. By the time I was done with the beer, I realized there was no front door, no outside, only my hut.