Woke up, got out of bed. Took a line of smack to the head. Found my way downstairs and drank a pint, looked outside, noticed it was light. Found my coat, grabbed my gack, made the bust in a second flat. Found my hood upstairs. He wasn't really stoked and when I read him is Miranda rights he said it was all a dream. Ah aa aa aa. I sang the blues today oh boy about a lucky man who made the grade. Although the news was rather sad. I just had the staaaaaaf. I saw the photogr-" "It;s not staff you idiot, it's LAUGH!" The tension exploded between his eyes & his head split apart, projecting cranial matter all over the newsroom. No one moved except for Bertie, who was forced to remove an eyeball from his chin. Well, This was no ordinary cranial matter splattered all over the newsroom. They had to publish The Onion by the next morning, and needed no further research into the headline stories. Clara the cleaning lady grumbled as she mopped up the mess. She regretted ever taking this job. She should have stayed with the ballet. As she cleaned, she began to dance. Her feet remembered all the ballet forms she had neglected to practice over the years, and though her steps were hesitant at first, Clara found herself once more falling back into the classic cotton picking rythm. Pick, oww, Pick, oww, creak, pick, oww, creak, oww, pick, oww, creak, oww,.. She wish she could pirouette away from this one but cotton doesn't pick its nose if it don't need picking, if you get my meaning. Couple of Revenuer blokes like you two, came around last year about this time. At least, I think that is what I remember. Come to think of it, I seem to remember a lot better if I know there is a case of 12 ounce reminders waiting for me to pick it up. Until then, good day to you Revenuer Man.



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