Predator Press
[LOBO]
Well, Joshua slipped from my clutches despite my dazzling display of mathematical prowess.
Of course I'm distressed; I definitely had that little shit deeply pegged as one of them commie pinko metric-system algebra lovers, just seething with potential; I figured that kid'd toss over his own mother for a Tickle Me Elmo.
And now, on top of it all, it turns out that this whole "getting an audit" is a bad thing.
I blame Mr Insanity.
This week sucks already.
Wednesday
Monday
Synergy
Predator Press
[Mr. I]
The Auditors are here.
"Chop, chop!" I says to Phoebe. "I need those NAFTA projections finalized in twenty minutes."
"We need a cure for cancer this very second," she replies, blowing off her nails.
"Wow!" says LOBO, slamming the door behind him. "Who is that new hot chick meeting with Cobe? Is she a temp?" He grabs his heart, looking to the sky, "Solomente Tu Este, Me Amore. Oh, those beautiful blue eyes ... "
"She's a Hawley Enterprises Auditor," I says.
"Are we getting audited?" LOBO asks excitedly.
"No," I reply. "The Predator Press Printshop is. They ran up 4.6 billion dollars last year for blog ink."
"But we're not getting audited?" LOBO frowns.
"No."
"What would we need to do to have a long, eviscerating audit, probing every inch of the entire editing staff?" he asks.
"We would have had to had questionable expenses last year," I offer. "But we came in under budget projections, and turned a profit of 2.6-"
Where's the document shredder?" LOBO asks, dialing.
"We don't have a document shredder," I reply helplessly.
"Hello, Cobe?" he says into the phone.
pause
"You're breaking up real bad. Something about 'you're with an auditor?'"
another pause
"Can't understand a word," says LOBO. "This phone is crap. Put me on speakerphone."
"LOBO," says Cobe. "We're very busy."
LOBO grins at me as he pours gasoline all over the room. Then, into the phone he says clearly, "Cobe, what exactly are we supposed to do with all these bags of cash?"
[Mr. I]
The Auditors are here.
"Chop, chop!" I says to Phoebe. "I need those NAFTA projections finalized in twenty minutes."
"We need a cure for cancer this very second," she replies, blowing off her nails.
"Wow!" says LOBO, slamming the door behind him. "Who is that new hot chick meeting with Cobe? Is she a temp?" He grabs his heart, looking to the sky, "Solomente Tu Este, Me Amore. Oh, those beautiful blue eyes ... "
"She's a Hawley Enterprises Auditor," I says.
"Are we getting audited?" LOBO asks excitedly.
"No," I reply. "The Predator Press Printshop is. They ran up 4.6 billion dollars last year for blog ink."
"But we're not getting audited?" LOBO frowns.
"No."
"What would we need to do to have a long, eviscerating audit, probing every inch of the entire editing staff?" he asks.
"We would have had to had questionable expenses last year," I offer. "But we came in under budget projections, and turned a profit of 2.6-"
Where's the document shredder?" LOBO asks, dialing.
"We don't have a document shredder," I reply helplessly.
"Hello, Cobe?" he says into the phone.
pause
"You're breaking up real bad. Something about 'you're with an auditor?'"
another pause
"Can't understand a word," says LOBO. "This phone is crap. Put me on speakerphone."
"LOBO," says Cobe. "We're very busy."
LOBO grins at me as he pours gasoline all over the room. Then, into the phone he says clearly, "Cobe, what exactly are we supposed to do with all these bags of cash?"
Wednesday
TREASON
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"Alright," I says to the kid. "How much homework do you have to do every day?"
Joshua pauses for a second, confused.
He holds up ten stubby little fingers.
"Okay," I acknowledge. "About an hour. You get on your bus at like 7:20 every morning, and leave on one at 3:10. And get home at, like, 3:25. Am I correct?"
Joshua squirms.
"Well buddy, that's about (x3)(4)=(X-6) more than the average adult commits to their careers, and then bitches about how they have no time." I walk behind Joshua, and put my arm over his shoulder. "But I've got good news too. I'm making you President of Student Council. And your first act as President will be to announce that school is done at noon, and that homework is illegal under penalty of death. Would you like that? All you and your motivated constituents have to do is swear a dark allegiance to me. No big deal."
"I like to color!" he giggles shyly.
"This isn't supposed to be a negotiation, you little shit ... "
[LOBO]
"Alright," I says to the kid. "How much homework do you have to do every day?"
Joshua pauses for a second, confused.
He holds up ten stubby little fingers.
"Okay," I acknowledge. "About an hour. You get on your bus at like 7:20 every morning, and leave on one at 3:10. And get home at, like, 3:25. Am I correct?"
Joshua squirms.
"Well buddy, that's about (x3)(4)=(X-6) more than the average adult commits to their careers, and then bitches about how they have no time." I walk behind Joshua, and put my arm over his shoulder. "But I've got good news too. I'm making you President of Student Council. And your first act as President will be to announce that school is done at noon, and that homework is illegal under penalty of death. Would you like that? All you and your motivated constituents have to do is swear a dark allegiance to me. No big deal."
"I like to color!" he giggles shyly.
"This isn't supposed to be a negotiation, you little shit ... "
Re-Tardy
Predator Press
[LOBO]
I was leafing through the paper --feigning interest in Rumsfeld's resignation so I didn't have to actually talk to anybody-when I found out I was elected District 57's Superintendent of Schools.
I don't even know where District 57 is, and I'm apparently late for work.
***
I burst into the Principal's office pretending to have an agenda and know what I'm doing, and being really pissed off about it. And this bitch dressed like a penguin yanks the cigarette out of my mouth!
"There's no smoking in here," the wrinkly old bat growls, squishing my non-generic and expensive smoldering joy under her thick, flat arches.
I point to the nearest nine year old, and he flips me a Kool.
"Bullshit," I says, lighting up.
[LOBO]
I was leafing through the paper --feigning interest in Rumsfeld's resignation so I didn't have to actually talk to anybody-when I found out I was elected District 57's Superintendent of Schools.
I don't even know where District 57 is, and I'm apparently late for work.
I burst into the Principal's office pretending to have an agenda and know what I'm doing, and being really pissed off about it. And this bitch dressed like a penguin yanks the cigarette out of my mouth!
"There's no smoking in here," the wrinkly old bat growls, squishing my non-generic and expensive smoldering joy under her thick, flat arches.
I point to the nearest nine year old, and he flips me a Kool.
"Bullshit," I says, lighting up.
Tuesday
Revolution
Predator Press
[Mr. I]
Election Day.
Yippee.
All very boring; voting between only two candidates that have been financed and feted for our Constitutional Right to have two candidates that have been financed and feted.
It doesn’t particularly excite me.
But what if the Village Idiot got voted in? Oh that’s too funny …
I’m writing in “LOBO” for everything … ! haha
… Bet nobody has ever thought of this gag before …
[Mr. I]
Election Day.
Yippee.
All very boring; voting between only two candidates that have been financed and feted for our Constitutional Right to have two candidates that have been financed and feted.
It doesn’t particularly excite me.
But what if the Village Idiot got voted in? Oh that’s too funny …
I’m writing in “LOBO” for everything … ! haha
… Bet nobody has ever thought of this gag before …
Fuck Democracy
Predator Press
[LOBO]
This whole election is a sham.
I spent 87 bucks on a Presidential Campaign, and I wasn't even on the fucking ballot.
Still, I voted. I voted against all those jerks that left messages on my answering machine.
Sometimes this electoral strategy forced me to vote for a Democrat, which still feels strange. I spent years as an Anarchist, which ultimately, is as "Conservative" as you can get if you think about it: no rule of law, just remains of dissenters.
Who wants to deal with all those bodies? I'm far too lazy to be a decent Anarchist.
On everything else, I wrote "LOBO" as a write-in.
God, that's so funny. I'll bet nobody's ever done that before ...
[LOBO]
This whole election is a sham.
I spent 87 bucks on a Presidential Campaign, and I wasn't even on the fucking ballot.
Still, I voted. I voted against all those jerks that left messages on my answering machine.
Sometimes this electoral strategy forced me to vote for a Democrat, which still feels strange. I spent years as an Anarchist, which ultimately, is as "Conservative" as you can get if you think about it: no rule of law, just remains of dissenters.
Who wants to deal with all those bodies? I'm far too lazy to be a decent Anarchist.
On everything else, I wrote "LOBO" as a write-in.
God, that's so funny. I'll bet nobody's ever done that before ...
Good Sport
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Well Jesus, that was pretty darn funny. Nice touch with the fake newspaper!!
Haha, ya got me.
But I'm still tellin your Dad.
Good luck tryin' ta heal cripples this week ...
[LOBO]
Well Jesus, that was pretty darn funny. Nice touch with the fake newspaper!!
Haha, ya got me.
But I'm still tellin your Dad.
Good luck tryin' ta heal cripples this week ...
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