[Intro – quick punchy guitar riff, drums immediately kick in] [Verse 1 – fast conversational female punk vocal] Loose little handle on the kitchen door, Been meaning to fix it for a week or more. Tiny little wobble, one screw underneath, Grab the screwdriver— five minutes, easy. Turn to the left. Nothing. Turn to the right. Nothing. Push a bit harder— [Brief instrumental stop] Well. That's stripped. [Band resumes] Fine. Take the handle off, see what's going on. Little metal bit falls out. [Female vocal] Where's that from? [Pre-Chorus – building] Five minute job. Ten at most. Nothing complicated. Don't need help. Don't need instructions. [Shouted] DEFINITELY DON'T NEED TO GOOGLE THIS SHIT! [Chorus – big catchy punk vocal] Five minute job! That's what I fucking said! Five minute job! Now the door's half dead! Started with a wobble, now it's lying on the floor— [Shouted] WHY HAVE I GOT THREE SCREWS LEFT OVER?! Five minute job! Just tighten one thing! How the fuck did we get here from that?! [Instrumental – playful driving guitar riff] [Verse 2 – quicker, increasingly chaotic] Twenty minutes later, watching some bloke online: “First remove the spindle.” Right. Which one's the spindle? Pause it. Zoom in. Still no fucking clue. Comments say: “Great tutorial!” [Female vocal] Good for you. Need a different screwdriver. Mine's the wrong size. Find one in a drawer under seventeen cable ties. Fits perfectly! Finally! Turn— [Metallic instrumental hit] Snap. [Pause] [Female vocal] Oh, you absolute cunt. [Fast rhythmic punk vocals] Now I need pliers! Where are the pliers? Found the fucking pliers! Why are they sticky? Don't answer that. New screw! Wrong screw! Need another screw! [Shouted] WHY DO WE OWN FORTY-SEVEN SCREWS AND NOT THE FUCKING SCREW?! [Chorus – louder] Five minute job! That's what I fucking said! Five minute job! Now I've dismantled half the set! Started with a wobble, now there's tools across the floor— [Shouted] AND I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT LITTLE BIT WAS FOR! Five minute job! Just tighten one thing! Somehow I've made the fucking door worse! [Instrumental Break – bouncing bass, frantic drums, jagged guitar] [Verse 3 – dense rapid-fire delivery] Right, hardware shop. Back in twenty. Buy the screw. Maybe buy plenty. Bloke at the counter asks: “What size?” [Brief stop] [Female vocal] The... door size? [Band resumes] Show him a photo. He stares for a bit. Asks where the old screw is. At home. Of fucking course it is. Buy three packets, one has to fit. Get back home— none of them fit. [Female shout] FANTASTIC! [Bridge – guitars pull back, vocals stay melodic] Three hours in. Kitchen looks robbed. I've spent thirty quid on a five minute job. Handle's on backwards. Door won't shut. And that original wobble? [Pause] Actually gone. [Female vocal – surprised] Oh. [Pause] Wait. [Door sound implied by instrumental slam] [Female vocal] Now it won't open. [Band explodes back] [Final Verse – frantic shout-sung delivery] TAKE IT BACK OFF! START AGAIN! WATCH THE SAME TUTORIAL FROM THE FUCKING BEGINNING! SPINDLE! SPRING! LATCH! SCREW! [Female shout] I KNOW WHAT THEY'RE CALLED NOW! FUCKING LOOK AT ME GO! Put it together! Test it twice! Door opens! [Brief stop] Door closes! [Female vocal – genuinely amazed] Holy shit. [Band kicks harder] I FIXED THE BASTARD! I FUCKING WON! ONLY TOOK FOUR HOURS AND— [Female vocal] Hang on. Why's the handle on the other door loose? [Hard Stop] [Final Chorus – explosive melodic punk vocal] Five minute job! NO! NOT FUCKING TODAY! Five minute job! I'M WALKING AWAY! You can wobble! You can rattle! You can fall off the fucking door! [Shouted] I'M NOT TOUCHING ANYTHING ANYMORE! Five minute job! I've learned my lesson! [Brief stop] [Female vocal] Until tomorrow. [Final guitar hit]
