“ Hi I’m Knobby the door knob and I’m here to tell you about my story. This is going to be an account of my worst days. Everybody loves to touch my head and turn it, why can’t they just push open the door? They must touch me first. Why, it just doesn’t make sense. Any way, here’s my story.

I was all nice and comfortable inside my box when all of a sudden, no no don’t touch me! Ahhhhh!, when it happened. I was attached to a large plank of wood commonly known as a door. Hence the name door knob. Any way I was happy with my new door until… some fat guy touched me. His name was Larry and he was the construction worker. His hands were extremely dirty and looked as if they hadn’t been washed for about three years straight. Any way he mauled my head. He said it felt cool to the touch, but it was like I was in an inferno.

There I was burning up and that fat guy was as cool as an ice cube. He was hammering away until he started back for my door. I said to myself “you have to be kidding me” I’ll show him. I transferred all of my collected heat to a single charge of energy, and heated up the inside doorknob off the chart heats. He took his hand laid it square on my doorknob and woooooooweeee. He let go of a bellow that would make a lion sound like a pussy cat. From that day forward I remembered one thing, man can a fat guy yell.”

“ Hi me again, knobby. Just wanted to fill you in on my last anecdote for today. It’s about me and a kid named, well, Billy the Kid. Now he was a passionate guy. Every time he wanted to enter the building he would kick the door open. Until he decided to touch my head. Oh man … it was after a gun fight with slim Jim the beef jerky. And finally the sad day arrived when he died. I was disassembled for evidence. And here I am today in the forensics lab in downtown Carson city Nevada 1888.