Ocne uopn a tmie, terhe was a mcaigal pacle

Ocne uopn a tmie, terhe was a mcaigal pacle werhe ervehtynig was mexid up in the mldide. Azmanilgy, tihs did not sotp ploepe form usternadnidg one aothenr... In fcat, it atluacly

enanched coummnaiction, esceplialy for mdidle chirlden and pleope who likced the mdidle out of oeros brofeer etaing the cooky. All was wlel in tihs mexid up wolrd utnil one day

attract members of the opposite sex (if it has an opposite sex) to no avail. It seemed that the cloud would descend upon them all before any of them could do a thing about it. But

the "cloud" as Nick referred to it was really getting on his co-worker's nerves. Nick would bust a "cloud" and then watch people walk into the "cloud" and laugh his head off

literally. Nick's head would hang by a thread of muscle, and blood would drip all over the office. This was his version of "rain", and his co-workers hated it more than the "cloud"

or the Lacerated Sky of '86, which ruined the contents of Janet's candy dish. As Nick's neck acted like a crimson sprinkler, the necrophobic actuary in the next cubicle retched and

rolled puking out of the chair. "Wow!" I thought to myself excitedly. "This has got to be the BEST Haunted Office I've ever been to!" Screaming in delight, I watched as Nick's neck

twisted around and his bulging eyes swept out a clean 360. Nick had swiveled around on his office chair for the last time. I wondered excitedly who the deceased CEO haunted the off

-tilt pinball machine thought he was. Unfortunately, stage theater had adopted micropayments now, and I couldn't quite afford the ending of the presentation. Hooray, capitalism.