Experiments in style: Cliché version

In which I use every trick in the book

Introduction

One of the things I’ve been trying out is reworking a piece of text into completely different styles. A full exposition and explanation are given here:

Experimenting with styles

Today’s version takes the form of social media updates (specifically, Twitter).

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First, though, here is the original text on which these experiments or transformations are based:

The original (template) text

In the middle of the night, I woke up (if you can call being semi-conscious being awake), walked purposefully towards the door to go to the bathroom — and almost knocked myself out.

The reason was that in the twin states of entire darkness and semi-somnambulance I was facing in a different direction from the one I thought I was facing. As a result, instead of walking through the door, I tried to walk through the wall.

The next few days brought nausea and headaches. After much prevarication I went to Accident and Emergency, where I waited petrified among people for whom “social distancing” means not quite touching you, and who wore their masks as a chin-warmer.

An hour and a half later I emerged into the twilight, secure in the knowledge that I had nothing more serious than mild concussion. I failed to do much writing, but I was pleased to have read a further 17% of my book.

The cliché version

I. Don’t. Believe. It. I mean, I wanted to see a man about a dog in the middle of the night, but obviously I got out of the wrong side of the bed, because blow me down, instead of ending up in the bathroom I found myself flat out on the floor. If only walls could talk, that’s what I say. I ask you. It was a perfect storm: black as the black hole of Calcutta, no light in case I woke everyone up, which would have opened up a whole can of worms in itself, although if some of my friends had heard about it and had a go at me that would have been like the pot calling the kettle black as far as I’m concerned if I’m honest about it. To tell the truth, I was feeling a bit unstable afterwards but I’m a busy man and I didn’t get where I am today by fussing about a little knock on the head. My dad was the same, and like they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I also thought I might as well not do anything drastic because good things come to those who wait. But I gave in in the end because my creativity was as dead as a door nail and I really needed to be about to think outside the box and give 120% to my latest project, so I ended up going to A & E and got there in the nick of time because soon after I arrived it was like Piccadilly Circus. While I was waiting I was on an emotional roller coaster wondering what they were going to say, but I decided to take my mind off things by reading a book. Well, time waits for no man as they say, and you only live once, so why not. Although maybe not for very long at this rate because it was a perfect storm: nearly knocking myself out for the count, nobody social distancing, nobody wearing a mask properly, and all of them ill with goodness knows what diseases. (I’d rather not think about it because the thought of it turns my stomach.) Anyway, after what seemed like an age a nurse came out to tell me I had a clean bill of health but not to do cartwheels on the way home. “Will I be able to play the piano?” I asked her. “Of course” she said. “Oh good”, I said, “Because I couldn’t play it before.” Well, you’ve got to laugh haven’t you? I mean, what’s life if you don’t laugh, that’s what I always say.

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Well?