He fixed the sticky label to his milk carton and stepped back, smiling at his handiwork.
The worktop was cluttered and messy, his flatmates continual disregard for order readily apparent in the carnage of stained takeaway cartons and cutlery.
His smile slipped as he thought of them. They had no respect. None whatsoever.
It was not just the mess. No, no. They used whatever they liked from the cupboards and the fridge.
The stern notes he left attached to various doors advising that they should desist from stealing his food were always ignored.
He had taken to labelling his items now.
That wasn't working either.
Carefully, he slotted his freshly labelled milk carton into the fridge, his smile returning.
He crumpled the rat poison container and deposited it into a plastic bag for disposal outwith their shared flat.
Oh well. Perhaps this will work.
It did with the last ones.