"I'm late, do something 'bout it. I need to know what you've already told everyone else. Repeat it just for me, I was sexting my mistress while you were talking."
Done, I glare.
Veins pop out in the asshat's neck as the air is cut off first. Hands begin to wave as the fool realizes the depth of his stupid. His mouth begins to gape even as his face turns purple. Impressive, the way the strings of snot braid themselves on the way from nose to ground.
A moment more and the limbs grow weak, the target staggers, cow-stupid eyes pleading.
Still I glare, forcing the issue to its inevitable, conclusion.
With a strangled sigh, the fight is won. A last few moments of legs drumming against the floor, then a puff of sulphur-yellow smoke dribbles from the ears.
I take a sip of water, "Anyone else want to ask stupid questions that have already been answered?"
The things Griffin Barber thinks about when he's thinking, which is not necessarily often. And they are my thoughts and opinions, not, in any way, those of the Department I work for.
Showing posts with label Staring at Shitheads All Day Will Make Your Dreams Dark Too. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Staring at Shitheads All Day Will Make Your Dreams Dark Too. Show all posts
Friday, July 15, 2011
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