Needless to say, this rumination on the context to a new Tom Hiddleston Centrum Advert is pure fiction. Or is it?
“Ah, another day begins! Looks nice out. Hope Tom Hiddleston isn’t downstairs making us breakfast again!
“Just patter down these tasteful stairs and… oh God. How did he get in again this time? The locks changed, the bars on the windows…
“Is it too late to run upstairs and grab the Mace – or even jump from a first-floor window? Probably break our ankles but… shit! Tom Hiddleston’s seen us. Better play along or Tom Hiddleston’ll get angry. And cry. And start wanking too probably – like last time.
“Fuck! Tom Hiddleston’s got a fucking knife. OK. Stay calm…
“‘Heyyyyyyy!’ to you too, you fucking sicko. Jesus, will Tom Hiddleston ever leave us alone?
“‘Pop back and make you breakfast…?’ Christ, Tom Hiddleston really is nuts. Wonder how he escaped from prison this time. And how did he find us?
“What’s that Tom Hiddleston’s got on that plate? A fried egg on top of vegetables and fruit? Pretty fucking weird – but at least it’s not Tom Hiddleston’s own severed toes with a sprinkling of Tom Hiddleston’s pubes like last time.
“Pepper on top? Whatever you say. Best to not upset Tom Hiddleston. Wait – there’s probably crushed-up sleeping pills or Rohypnol in this stuff. Better pretend to eat while secretly feeding it to the dog.
“The dog… where is the dog? Wait, the knife. The knife in Tom Hiddleston’s hand. Oh God…
“Maybe that’s why Tom Hiddleston’s looking so regretful – almost like he’s trying to apologise for something…
“Shit, listen to what Tom Hiddleston is saying – he gets upset when we don’t play along. Just pretend to be Tom Hiddleston’s wife and listen very carefully to what Tom Hiddleston is-.
“What the fuck? Is Tom Hiddleston speaking Chinese? Shit – this is new. Do we have to pretend to be Chinese now?
“Centrum, what’s that? Probably best not swallow whatever that is or we’ll be waking up in a cellar dressed in leather chaps and chained to a wall again.
“Jesus, the way Tom Hiddleston keeps rubbing his hands like he’s Lady Macbeth – and that furrowed brow. And those eyes – eyes that have seen too much. Those hands that have closed around so many elegant young necks…
“‘A bit busy for the next few weeks’. Oh God, what’s Tom Hiddleston got planned? Something involving saws and scalpels probably. For weeks. Where’s Tom Hiddleston going to take us?”
“Wait, is Tom Hiddleston going? OK this is our one chance to get Tom Hiddleston out of here. Just play along with Tom Hiddleston’s twisted domestic bliss fantasy and we might just get out of this alive.
“Mess about with Tom Hiddleston’s collar a bit – it will soothe his murderous sexual desires. Could we gouge Tom Hiddleston’s eyes out while his defences are down? Maybe crush Tom Hiddleston’s windpipe?
No, no – his bloody, eyeless face twisted in a mask of hatred as he rages, sightless, around the kitchen swiping with that carving knife is too horrible to contemplate. He looks calm. We just have to get Tom Hiddleston outside the door and we’re safe…
“Tom Hiddleston’s… Tom Hiddleston’s actually going. Argh, he’s reaching back to drag us out of the house, into the back of his blood-soaked pick-up, away from the lovely house and safety!
“What the fuck? Tom Hiddleston’s actually gone?!
“We’re safe! Safe from the sex dungeon, safe from the needy passive aggression of his twisted psyche! Safe from the endless degrading acts Tom Hiddleston makes us carry out to satisfy his perverted desires!
“Finally safe from Tom Hiddleston!”