Cardigan's Fragile-Personal Narrative

I remember it was sweaty as hell when I reached home and rang the doorbell. The Cardigan’s beloved maid Fatty Fury opened the door. The house keys were never given to me for some reason. The oddball in the Cardigan’s court was Mr. Shrinkwrap never got up to open the door, but made sure to follow Fatty Fury to the door. They were strange people I tell you. Mrs. Sweetgum Cardigan showed no shade of shock or surprise, instead, she was delighted to see me come home early. I saw her sitting in her rocking chair and smiling slightly. Then she quickly turned herself away toward the window. She covered herself with a blanket, though it wasn’t that cold. But Mr. Shrinkwrap looked angrily at me when I greeted him and smiled.
“Where were you?” he screamed.