You always know that a story is going to be very ironic or have some kind of strange twist if it starts with, "It seemed like a normal day..." because you always find out later in the story, that it wasn't a normal day. Well, the story I'm about to tell you is very strange. So this is the only way I can think of to start it:

It seemed like a normal day when I woke up this morning. The birds were chirping, and my brother was still asleep. I could hear his snoring coming from the nezt room over. We really need to sound-proof these walls. I can hear EVERYTHING coming from his room. And let me tell you, if I told my mother the things I knew about my brother, he would never see the light of day ever again. That's how grounded he would be. Better yet, though, if I told my brother that I knew what he did in there, then he would be in debt with me forever. Mwahahaha!

But this story is rated G. Hopefully. So I won't get into much detail with that. Ahem. But the downside is that he can hear all the gossip that my friends and I say when they sleep over here and we talk in my room. That's not good. I don't want my brother knowing a single thing about me. That would be creepy.

So because of this issue, as soon as I get up and put a toaster struddel in the toaster for my breakfast, I grab the phonebook in search of someone to sound-proof the wall between my room and my brother's. I slapped the heavy book down onto the kitchen table, and flipped through to the yellow pages. I looked under the letter S for sound-proofing. By the time my struddel popped up from the microwave, I had found what I was looking for. Right there, the only company in the area that sound-proofs, was a little business called "Ninja Lawn Gnome Sound-Proofing Service".

The name was a bit of a turn-off, but what other choice did I have? I needed sound-proofing, and I needed it FAST. So I got a plate down from the cabinet, put my toaster struddel on it, took a bite, poured myself a glass of orange juice, took another bite, and sat down at the table. I reached over to the counter and grabbed the phone. I dialed 1-800-We-sound-proof-or-our-name-isnt-Ninja-Lawn-Gnome-Sound-Proofing-Service. I tucked the phone under my ear with my shoulder as it rung so I could take a bite of my struddel and a sip of my juice.

After 3 rings, a man's voice answered, "Ninja and Lawn Gnome Sound-Proofing Service, how may I help you?"

I paused before speaking because the man's Chinese accent was so strong it was surprising. He sounded like... a ninja. "Uh..." I said, "Yes. Sorry. I would like to make an appointment to have a wall in my home sound-proofed."

The man said, "Certainly. That's what we're here for. Is today at 10 am a good time to send a worker over to sound-proof?"

I checked the clock. 9:56. Was he serious? Did he know the time? "Uh... I guess so."

"Great!" said the ninja-sounding man and hung up. Two seconds later the doorbell rang, and I finished up my struddel, took a sip of juice, and walked over to answer it. When I opened the door, no one was there. I peeked out, but I didn't see anyone, so I closed the door and turned around. There before me, was a short almost gnome-sized man wearing a ninja costume with a gnome hat.