Raiders of the Lost Arse

What is happening to grump's house!? Every day it seems another package arrives for The Flower from one shopping channel or other; all sizes, containing mysteries... grumpydoctor never sees the contents. Just the mountain of leftover boxes building up in his bedroom. A QVC stockpile. Old shipping notices and invoices flutter around him like autumn leaves shaken from protesting trees; a breeze through his warping window frame sends reams of paper skirling into the air...
Just the other day it occured to grump that his red-painted chap's boudoir is in danger of resembling the warehouse at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Downstairs, as he reclines on the cat-ravaged sofa, surely he can hear the wooden floor above groan under the burden?

She must be stopped! This mass consumption madness has to end!

And the village postman is in league with her. Just the other day the knock at the door had a certain mocking timbre to it. Another box. Another mysterious 'product'. Now this fellow has already suffered grump's wrath, having been caught with his arm through the letter box, scrabbling about blindly, feeling for mis-delivered mail with spidery fingers. Grumpydoctor, in gentleman's dressing gown at the ungodly hour of 10am, uttered a distressed cry as he witnessed the hand of a stranger scuttling about, emerging from his letter box. "What the bloody hell!" grump may have yelled. "Posted the wrong letters again! Sorry!" Again!!? This man demands watching. Who knows, perhaps half of the boxes, cartons and packets upstairs have nothing to with The Flower. They certainly have no function in the grump's universe.