A Tour Through an Appalachian Modular Home
“This tour begins with chickens. Various colors, one for every preference. They do not
belong to this family, but they do certainly add character. Do not be afraid when they swarm you like raptors, they mean no harm. They simply desire your sweet, sweet breadcrumbs.
“This home does not have a garbage disposal. That’s why they borrow the neighbor’s
chickens. Sometimes, they even eat chicken, when the Lady of the manor forgets that chicken shouldn’t eat chicken.
“Please watch your step, be mindful of the mud. This driveway hasn’t been paved or
graveled since 2009 when the last inhabitant died. Yes sir, this house has a bonafide death count of exactly one! Please do not add to the count as you ascend the side stairs of this humble abode. The wood has worn through in a few spots, and the stairs look hungry for feet.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I know the landscape of Appalachia is enthralling to the human
eye, I mean have you ever seen so much corn and poverty? But if you will please turn your attention from those far-off hills and instead focus on this copy-pasted modular home, it would be greatly appreciated.
“I believe the color is called duct-tape grey. The builders of this home call it that color
because they held up a roll of duct-tape after a hailstorm, but that could just be hearsay. As we enter the home, please take a moment to appreciate the lawn ornaments. The current owner has worked hard to put out these live, laugh, love signs, and said I’d become a hood ornament if I didn’t mention it.
“Anyways, remember how I told you to wear boots? Discard them here. You can’t come in
the house with them. It scares the cats, of which there are five. The owner considers them part of the household, but the IRS won’t let them claim the little hell-fiends on their taxes. It’s quite tragic.
“Once you discard your boots in this all-too-tight hallway, try to be polite and not hear the
toilet flush from the next room over. Maybe whistle a little bit so you don’t hear the owner piss. That would be preferred. Also, mind one another’s limbs, it is easy to be tangled in such tight quarters.
“We open now into the dining area. This piece-of-shit table is an authentic, European an-
tea-quew. The leaves of the table are marked with black sharpie from the grandmother of the current owner. Now, they cover it in dollar tree cloths.
“Ladies and gentlemen, before I turn your attention to the next feature of the home, I ask
you not to scream. She looks scary but does not bite, and I assure you she is contained to her mortal form. But, if you look up on top of this cabinet, please note the delicate features of this vintage porcelain doll. The cousin of the owner when house-sitting said she heard the clinking of glass feet, but the owner’s daughter says she full of it, as the pendulum session assured her that the doll was neither haunted, nor possessed. But it does serve as an adequate guard-doll, nonetheless. The cats certainly don’t do anything quite so useful.
“Please do not lean too hard on the counters and especially the oven door. Far too many
things are super-glued into place. Additionally, if you require a refreshment, please open the fridge door from the top, as there is no handle. Not really sure what happened with that one, to be honest. However, after fighting the door open, I assure you, you will be sorely disappointed. The Lady of the Manor is an “almond-a-day” kinda gal, and usually only drinks water and maybe a slice of lemon if she’s feeling adventurous.
“There was an attempt at an open floor plan when building this modular home. Therefore,
a few of you crowding around me right now are technically in the living room. This house really wasn’t meant for more than 2-3 people. Anyways, the living room is composed of entirely second-hand furniture, which the owners tell people are antiques, mostly to make themselves feel better about being poor. Also, the fireplace is fake, and mostly just drives up the power bill.
“We won’t bother much with the master bedroom, though the master bath does have one of those fun and funky squishy toilet seats for old people. The woman who used to live here (who died) mostly slept in that room. At least we can deduct from her choice in toilet additions that her bowel movements were comfortable until she passed.
“The second bedroom is only temporarily occupied by the Lady of the Manor’s daughter.
She is supposedly proud of the layout, but does report that a window directly facing a main road is a poor choice. Forgetting you didn’t close the blinds before changing and then hearing honking from the main road is not a pleasant feeling. At this point, she’s unfortunately sure that most people that live on this road has seen her tits. Nothing like community bonding, am I right?
“The last rooms in the house are the third bedroom, now cat bathroom and storage, and
the human bathroom. Weirdly enough, the human bathtub has an unusually high lip, oftentimes making the daughter fall right out of the shower. She reports that she picks herself up, usually covered in discarded bits of cat food, because the bowel is right by the shower. Frankly, it’s a terrible plan and setup, but what other sane landlord would let someone have five cats? I suppose these folks take what they can get for $850 a month!”