Door Hinge

I'm sure you've heard this story a thousand times.
Boy meets girl.
Girl turns out to be an enchantress whose many-greats-aunt was scorned by your many-greats-grandfather.
And so girl turns you into a door hinge.
What? That's not the story you remember?
Well, it's what happened to me.
Now, life as a door hinge isn't too bad. I got to see some sights on the way to the market, and when some little old lady picked me out of the pile of junk on the table, I wasn't actually feeling too bad.
Of course, as a door hinge, I can't actually feel anything at all.
When I finally got to the old lady's house, she surprised me with her talent at installation.
How many little out lady's do you know who can swap out a door hinge in just ten minutes?
But after that, my life got pretty dull.
There isn't much to see inside a door frame, and the old lady wasn't the type to keep her door open.
Then came the day I started to squeak.
The strange thing was, my squeaking actually sounded like words!
Somehow, I could talk whenever I squeaked.
But the old lady wasn't the tyoe to let a door hinge squeak for very long.
Before my squeak could get load enough for her to understand the words I cried, she greased the hinges.
And the squeaks stopped.