Short Story: Blah and Order

I remember that I was sitting in the deck chair and sipped at my orange juice. I was contemplating life, as I usually do around noon.

Just when I was about to feel a little bit sorry for myself, something exploded behind me and hurled me forward, over the border of the porch, spilling my juice, spoiling my day. Dark and thick smoke swelled from the front door of my house.

Just when I decided to feel really really sad, another explosion ripped my house apart. The roof went straight into the red evening sky, to the stars and beyond. I had no idea where that came from. The fridge? The oven? The gallons of gas I was storing in a corner of the kitchen?

The sheriff arrived. First he stared with big eyes at what was once my house. Then he lifted his hat with his thumb and said: "Whatever happened, I bet my wooden leg you did something stupid again." I looked at the floor, blushing.

Then I remembered the bag of microwave popcorn I had prepared earlier. Perhaps I did not set the microwave to three minutes. "I guess it was more like thirty minutes" said the sheriff, who likes to eavesdrop on my internal dialogue. "Yes I do." added the sheriff and waited for me to finish the paragraph.

"While you were busy blowing your house up, some criminals robbed the city bank.", the sheriff said. "Thanks to the recession, they only went away with about five dollar, but law and order requires us to go after them anyways."
"Well, that's not proper.", I said.
"What's not proper?", the sheriff asked.
" 'Anyways' is not an English word. If you would drop the S, that could work.", I said.
"Tell you what. I let you do your stupid writing, you let me do my grammar mistakes, okeydoke?", the sheriff said.
"More like spelling errors..."
"Shut your hole and get in the car."

The road was long and bumpy, almost even bumpy and long. The sheriff mumbled stuff that I could not understand. I wondered where I would sleep for the next days, now that my house was blown to pieces by malfunctioning kitchen ware.
"Don't ask me", said the sheriff, "nobody enters my house except me."
"Is it that dirty?", I asked.
"Just keep asking and your face is going to be that dirty. I simply do not want any strangers at my place."
"Well, I'm not a stranger.", I said.
The sheriff looked at me.
"I don't care. Check into some Holiday Inn. I'm booked out."
"You got lucky with the ladies?", I snickered.
"Shut your hole and straighten up. There's the bank."

We got out of the car and walked towards where the sheriff said the bank once was. Now, right where that bank was supposed to be, where I used to kick the ATM machine the final days of each month, something else was there. Something that looked like one of those tellers liked popcorn as much as I did, but did also share my lack of talent for estimating proper timing. Something that looked like, no, actually was a big hole.

"Crap" said the sheriff. The bank was gone.