Have you ever seen the movie Spaceballs, particularly this scene?
I haven't thought of it in quite a while. Then there I was yesterday, taking to heart kyooty's suggestion to "Bring [douchy coworker Amber] Junior art for her cube."
I "helped" Junior do just that.
As I, I mean we, drew, I started hearing a voice. A voice that sounded a lot like Rick Moranis's.
"First you will feel the pain of alien thunderbolts. Then a giant bus with teeth will run you over!"
"Yes! Yes, Amber! Flames will eat your snaggly feet. Poisonous snakes will zap you with their tongues!"
"Yes! A giant bird will devour your miniscule brain!"
"No, please! I take it back. I'm a rotten, petty woman!"
"It's too late!"
Obviously the bloodbath didn't end with us making out. That would just have been weird.
I haven't given Amber the artwork yet; right now it's bringing me pleasure to look at it. As soon as the giddiness subsides I figure I'll mow her down in the parking lot.
Hey, it was DysFUNtional Mom's idea...
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.