Karls only real ability in life is fooling naive sub-letters into thinking he is a model housemate when he comes to inspect the room on offer.
Like a renting vampire, Karl waits to be invited in before revealing his true form and draining you of your will to live. There he will remain until you dare to drive the stake of eviction right through his parasitic heart.
After getting turfed from a property in Byford, Karl is once again prowling Gumtree for a dwelling. He arranges to inspect 8 houses and ghosts all accept one. A humble abode in Harris Dale.
He claimed he had a booming social life, full employment and was a semi OCD “clean freak” when it came to cleaning up after himself. All positive traits in a housemate. He was ticking boxes and the couple living there decide to snap him up.
Of course, what he neglected to tell them was that he was “in-between” jobs and had a rare allergy to cleaning up after himself: In other words a crippling case of useless-cuntitis.
Much like a human mobile phone, he had to recharge on the couch every waking minute of the day. Whenever his housemates returned he would always just be sitting there, stoned out of his mind watching their Netflix account.
To make matters worse, Karl took a very socialist view of food and drink in the house. What’s theirs is his and what is his is theirs. Except, of course, he never bought anything for the fridge.
Except for a heinous looking Tupperware container that was incubating a new strain of food poisoning. Karl had combined a Coles’ roast chook, a jar of Kantong and 3 packs of your Mi Goreng into a meal last week. He never got around to eating it because there was better food in the fridge.
Tensions boiled over on Tuesday when Karl felt bored and smashed a $29 4 pack of craft beers. One of his housemates decides to confront him and walks into Karl’s room at 11 am. He finds Karl still asleep and surrounded by food encrusted dishes and a 2L juice container full of his piss.
“Oi Karl, getting a bit sick of you not pulling your weight, the lounge is always filthy, you don’t buy anything for the house and you drank my beers!” Karl does his best to give a shit, “they’re just beers bro, I’ll replace em, ay, relax”. No, he won’t.
The container of human piss is the final straw and a house meeting is called. Amongst all the other issues, it seems the first month’s rent was the only money they’ve seen from him since he moved in.
He defends himself, “yeah just don’t have any money at the moment, relax, I’m good for it”. No, he’s not.
After a short deliberation, Karl is asked to move the fuckout. He doesn’t go down quietly. Asserting that he “knows his rights”.
After a painfully awkward few weeks of Karl refusing to leave he finds a new opportunity to start fresh and sponge off a new house.
He decides to move out when his housemates are at homes and takes a few mementoes with him to remember the good times – a Dyson vacuum, a jar containing $378 in loose change and all the condiments.
Not satisfied with his loot, Karl sends his old housemates a message some weeks later, “still waiting for you to transfer me back my bond, if I don’t get it by Friday I’ll take yous to the SAT”. The audacity.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?