RARGH! Rob, Smash!

Rob spent the night on my couch in the basement after a particuarly raucous Friday night.

He was gone when I woke up but not without leaving me a small token of appreciation for my hospitality.

I awoke to find that the door to my basement had a large, bear-sized hole where there once was only wood.

It appears that Rob, upon awakening in the night with an urge to urinate, found himself struck with a thorny problem.

Here he faced an insumountable barrier, made of wood and a locking mechanism too complex for his liquor-addled brain to grasp.

With a mighty roar, he charged through the obstacle. Shaking the splinters off his Guns and Roses T-shirt, he grunted his approval as he looked back at the destruction his passage wrought.

So anyway, Rob owes me a door.