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Flotilla Bathos was languishing in the windowless desiderium one morning when the butler brought in her daily salmanazar of wine. "How is your prolapse today, madam?" "Chives, what -
in the deuce are you wearing?" Flotilla Bathos asked as she lowered her prolapse onto a chilled bean bag chair. Chives, the butler, said, "A pimp suit madame." -
"Well it goes well with your eyes Mr. Huggy Chives. Pimping must be in your blood. I saw it when you walked in here 20 years ago. That is why I had to keep you down. We didn't need -
you to get any ideas about your future, which is why we decided to nip it in the bud. Squash it out before any idea formed in the first place." -
Right then, I had the best idea I ever had about my future. "How about you shut the hell up!" I screamed right before I smothered the entire conversation with my goose-down pillow. -
I stormed out of that public swimming pool and straight to the dentist supply outlet to purchase some spray bottle chloroform and a little mouth vacuum to clean my computer. -
But no amount of scrubbing could remove the offending words from between the keys. I finally had to throw that laptop out. It cursed repeatedly as the trash truck hauled it away. -
I kindly screamed, "Watch your language!" after the laptop and watched it fade into the distance, then sat down to eat a slice of pizza and unwind. And, of course, drink lemonade. -
You can't just throw a laptop into the void and eat pizza without lemonade! It was just simply unheard of! Why, the very thought of it could land you in prison for thirty years if -
you got caught, especially if you were unshaven at time of arrest. And the pizza and lemonade lobby in Washington was keen to report any such violations involving flung laptops.
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