So back when I lived with my parents we resided in one of those split level homes. You know, the ones that have 5 mini-floors so I'd think I was the shit with my five billion floors even though the square footage was probably less then my buddies' 2 story houses. This meant that we had a lot of staircases.
I had this one gifted friend who liked to jump down these short stairwells inevitably resulting in numerous cases of blunt trauma. In retrospect the first impact to his cranium was probably the reason he kept on doing it later. This definitely didn't help his situation.
Well my sweet old mum was the type that was always looking for new incredible ways to utilize every square inch of a home. Apparently some cosmic forces focused and some disturbed mind out there must have fallen off the john and hit their head too, coming up with an incredible idea. A way to utilize a space previously unconsidered throughout recorded human history. And thus the Stair Basket was born.
Unlike many actually useful, improbable inventions like the Shamwow, Clapper and others, the Stair Basket would go down as a blight on humanity. This seemingly harmless wicker invention is single handedly responsible for more pain and human suffering then every major plague in history combined.
Anyways my mother managed to find one of these and it was promptly given a home on our main staircase. Of the total width of that stairwell this wicker deathtrap probably took up about 1/3 to 1/2 of that width. This meant that any time you went down the staircase now you had to evade this basket, hugging the wall for dear life much like Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom when they escape the mines. This was just during the day.
Imagine if you will, waking up at some ungodly hour just like any other night with the intense need to take a whiz. Well, now this mundane task was turned into a life risking venture. After many mishaps and miraculous survivals came the fateful day.
Tensions were high already at the time. I was watching TV nearby (surely nursing some recent basket wound) when down the stairs came my stepfather forgetting that all important rule of hugging the wall and he stepped right smack into the bowels of the stair basket.
Down the stairs went a flurry of man, wicker and curses. Slowly, he stood up with an obvious gimp and this was about when all hell broke loose. My memory is a little foggy after that but I remember lots of expletives yelled well over the safety of 140 dB and watching that wicker basket crash into multiple walls at light speed.
