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!"
"No!"
"Yes! Yes, Amber! Flames will eat your snaggly feet. Poisonous snakes will zap you with their tongues!"
"No, no!"
"Yes! A giant bird will devour your miniscule brain!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"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...
