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It seemed innocent enough, just type a few

  • It seemed innocent enough, just type a few words on the fly. A random thought about the day. But who is monitoring these thoughts? Who keeps a file in Washington?

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  • I pushed that notion aside and tried not to think about the big juicy caramel cinnamon roll sitting there in the break room. Whose was it? I went back to my cubicle, obsessed with

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  • whorls of butter and burnt sugary cocooned in a doughy blanket. I suspected it was Big Bob's lunch but struck out the idea. He'd never risk leaving it unattended. Was it poisoned?

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  • There was only one way to find out. I dropped a chicken nugget into the food. It grew wings and squawked off the table. There was no doubt about it: Big Bob's lunch had been poison

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  • -ed with angel wings. I fingered through my file folders. "'Panga,' 'Pengo,' ah, 'Penguin Jerky.'" I dropped a strip on Bob's lunch and it too flew. A skein of flightful bird meat

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  • is what every insurance seminar needs. But my meat tray was empty. Where could I get penguin meet on short notice. "Dad, can we go to the zoo?"

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  • The answer was of course "No". My father was never the most understanding person when it came to my devious schemes to illegally obtain penguin meat for my insurance seminars.

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  • This was the Fourth meeting of the Federation and I wanted my seminars to stand out from the other agents. They always served a foot long sub sandwich and I thought

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  • instead of subs, why not dubs - I meant, brownies! I took to the kitchen and prepared with the most delicious recipe I could Google, and handed them out to the agents the next day.

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  • These were chocolate banana babies, which I spotted at whole foods long ago. They were dairy and gluten free, so everyone would polish them off before the food police arrived!

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