Arthur Pumble's Unimpressed Existence

Arthur Pumble regarded the cat floating three inches above the rug with an expression best described as 'mildly inconvenienced.' "Chairman Meow," he observed, pouring his lukewarm tea, "you seem to have defied fundamental physics again. One assumes it's an issue with the new anti-gravity kibble."

Later, on his way to work, a street mime attempted to trap Arthur in an invisible box. Arthur walked straight through the mimed wall, remarking, "Rather flimsy construction, isn't it? Perhaps a structural engineer should review the blueprints." The mime deflated visibly.

At the bus stop, a small, shimmering portal opened, from which emerged a disgruntled-looking knight in full medieval armor. "Forsooth!" the knight bellowed, looking around frantically. Arthur glanced at him. "Forgot your Oyster card, did we?" he muttered, checking his watch. "The 7:15 is usually quite punctual, even without interdimensional travel."

The bus, driven by a particularly stoic badger, arrived precisely on time. Arthur boarded, nodded to the badger, and found a seat. As the bus pulled away, he saw the knight attempting to hail a taxi with his gauntlet. "Amateur," Arthur murmured, opening his newspaper. "Everyone knows you wave with a gloved hand." Life, Arthur often reflected, was mostly predictable, with the occasional, easily explained deviation.