Good morning, Jim. Your mission, should you

Good morning, Jim. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is

.."Oops" said Jim, plugging in his headphones. Damn! Now I couldn't hear what the mission was going to be. I would find out soon enough though. When Jim came back in

with his headphones still on Karen started yelling at him about something. He couldn't hear her. He thought about removing them but didn't think he was going to like whatever she w

as yelling. He turned his headphones up and outwardly looked apologetic whenever Karen pointed particularly pointedly in his direction. Inwardly, he was dancing manically to the

"Flintstones" theme song, but outwardly he was solemnly waving his invisible baton to "Thus Spake Zarathustra". Karen pointed at him again. "Take those headphones off!" she yelled

" i need to ask you a question". Begrudgingly he obliged, seeing as he was under the self effacing powers of love. He stared blankly, awaiting the important inquiry. " do you think

this makes me look fat?" He knew this was coming, but felt unprepared. "No, my dear – it's all that beer and pizza. But look, honey, the God of the slow cooker made you fine just

something something lackluster daisy backslash." Then suddenly the genie emerged from our slow cooker and said he'd grant us two and a half wishes (inflation). First we wished for

more wishes, obviously. But the genie showed us the paragraph in the terms and conditions where it read "A wish may not be used for the purpose of adding more wishes, nor fractions

of wishes." "However," the genie continued, "there's one exception: don't make any wishes at all." We locked eyes and made our choice. And voilà, our beachside Chiringuito.