Sometimes I hear things. I don't think that's

Sometimes I hear things. I don't think that's normal.
he real problem is that the voices were from 40s radio shows. How can I do a job interview with the Great Gildersleeve harrumphing in the background? If I tilted my head,
The finger monkeys would lose their balance, and the whole plan would be ruined. The Bing Crosby tunes were still softly playing, when I proceeded to tell them why I should be hire
d. I think they began to doubt my credentials when my thumb puppet began arguing with my pinkie puppet about paying the tab. "This job fits us like a glove" said my ring finger.
"Don't be such a knuckle head," popped my ring finger. My thumb said, "don't try to palm your check off on me." The pinkie finger asked the ring finger, "Can I get your digits?"
The ring finger said, "Hell, no!' The middle finger, when asked, did agree, on one condition...
That his agreement be sufficient was the one condition. Meaning, it didn’t matter what all the fingers said. It only mattered what he said. They had no say. The hands would never
touch the woman with disgust or harm. He caressed her side feeling the softness of the velvet-draped over her waist. Her trembling lips muttered
, "Take your peanut-buttery fingers off my velvet-draped waist before I punch your lights out!" But it was too late. Her velvet frock was ruined by the oily, gooey mess. He offered
her some laundry detergent, but in the end, let's just say that she laid a finger, or two fists for that matter, on that butterfinger.

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