Thursday, October 20, 2011

 
Night of Disaster


-Hey! Like where’s the breathing space? Us to mourn,
them to gloat.

-My office seven am!

-Postmortem?

-We start hitting! Hitting! Smashing!

-Any particular...?

-Four-pronged attack!

-Fork them, hey?

-Sabotage everything they propose!

-They haven’t yet.

-Their platform leads us to ruin! Ruin!

-Socialism, Communism, and any other ism I can invent?

-Gattling gun!

-Don’t we usually start by pretending to cooperate?

-Not this time. It’s war!

-They’re...actually blocking the postmistress of
Glurch, Idaho from private gynecological care!

-Specific things like that. Bingo!

-I get it, but’ll become persona non grata among my Georgetown latte friends.

-Go after the fairies too!

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