Empty space for rent

Have noticed that the rental market is very tight these days, rents are increasing rapidly, probably due to house prices being as they are. It's my theory its because of LOW interest rates .. and de-regulated easy credit. The "buoyant" economy will be due for a “correction” soon .. but that's another story.

Anyway, am a bit short of cash, have a unique empty space available. Have owned it for a long time, now falling into disuse, so have decided to rent it out.

Elevated, Multipurpose, automatic comfort control. Might start at $5000 per week, which seems to be a fair rate for vacant spaces these days, but everything is negotiable.

Went and inspected it the other day to tidy it up and see if there were any cob-webs left over, but yup, a large empty space... mostly. Did, however, find four inhabitants startled by the inspection, cowering in fear, hiding under a mat in one out-of -the-way corner.

What are you doing here? Say I.

There was silence for a while. They looked at each other, then “We live here.” one ventured timorously. “Since when?” ask I, confused.

“Since the beginning, haven't you noticed.” says the pathetic, shriveled, pale creature which I shall name Braincell 1.

“I don't understand.” say I.
“Yes, that's the problem.” says Bc 1, “The family that used to handle comprehension have all gone. Now I have to look after that, as well as the motor co-ordination desk. Can't efficiently do both at the same time.” Growing bolder, Bc 1 continued, “This space used to be filled with a thriving, active community of networking families. Was a happy, joyous place – but over time, neglect and peculiar policies, have all gradually become comatose or died out. We're the only four left.”

“I sit at the hormone flows control desk,” explains Bc 2, “but we don't DO sex, can't reproduce or replicate.”

“And it's getting bloody tough,” grumbles Bc 3, the anger management specialist. “We're getting bloody worn out with only four of us having to multi-task, do the work fer everything. Need a bloody rest and holiday.”

“Shushh, he's the owner, don't upset him.” whispers Bc 4.

“Oh Shush yerself,” snaps Bc 3. “You might be in charge of empathy and consideration, but it's bloody time to speak up!”

"Oohh .." wails Bc 4. "but I'm supposed to handle self control as well, It's all getting too much".

Somewhat surprised to find anything active in the space, I begin to ponder. Bc 2 hunches up, begins to shiver and strain, “Don't be too long at this,” it groans, “am but a pale shadow of my former self, need sustenance for long term pondering.”

“Sustenance? Ask I, “What sort of sustenance?”
“Oh, a bit more Berocca and heaps more oxygen,” says Bc 1, “cigarettes and alcohol don't help much.”