"The problem with collaboration," she smiled

"The problem with collaboration," she smiled over her glasses, "is that a G-rated thought can easily be spiked with an x-rated intent. How do we capitalize on such unintended

-" Her sentence was cut in half because his languid phallus was hanging out. The tip was on her desk. Her desk calendar, right on EASTER! It was multicolored like an Easter

She took a moment to regain composure before turning on the electric stapler and letting it go wild. She'd been meaning to repair it, but now smiled at its 500 staples per second

as they flew across the office. The staples stuck in everything they touched, be it the corkboard or the back or the poor intern's head who had happened to

what? how can this be a story? a story needs some character

and a willingness to properly pass along a folding story without sabotaging it with unhelpful folds like the one above." The editor then pressed the room for some other ideas when

Hobo Kelly, star of a childrens show entered the room. Somebody help me she said. Mr. Tinker is dead. He was fine only hours ago and now he is dead! Who would kill Mr Tinker?

He was tackled by a team of special police on assignment to follow him after an anonymous tip claimed he was a serial pedophile, this being the moment they were waiting

to arrest the priest and read him his wrights,but the mess they made in the church was such,that the Vatican sued,and won.Have mercy...