Their bodies litter our environment, their cadavers are scattered every which way. The agony of their collective demise festers in our dreams and makes us wake up sweating. In the dark of night you can hear their screams as the oven's heat engulfs them.
I am an altruist, I sacrifice for my fellow man.
How did all those dead Keeblers end up on the counter? Who casually tossed them and their dark-complected friends the Oreos there, for each and every one of us to discover with dismay on Friday morning as we stumbled into the kitchen for a cup of coffee?
It is evil, pure evil, I tell you.
But I am an altruist, I sacrifice for my fellow man. I have been disposing of their corpses in the proper manner. Despite their being dry, and sickly sweet. So that you don't have to.
DAEMONS WITH GREEN VESTS AND POINTY HATS
They pretended that they were elves, but really, who was fooled? They resembled little fat faced trolls more than any other creature. Even orcs, or goblins, perhaps. They were evil, sheer evil. Mealy sandy evilness with little chocochips. Now inanimate, the fates have rendered them flat and crumbly, as if crushed by a heavy burden.
How precisely like little cow-pies, or dried-out road kill.
On Friday I manfully plowed my way through a pile of their bodies. So also on Saturday and Sunday, when I just happened to wander in - I never come to the office on the weekend, what strange compulsion pulled me here? What sleephaunting power forced me to wend my way hither?
But no matter. I set about disposing of the Keebler carrion with a steeled heart. Crunch crunch.
More milk, please.
I am an altruist, I sacrifice for my fellow man.
It is Monday now, and still there is no end in sight. Alas, all the milk is gone, and I am caffeinated to the gills. Yea, I am veritably zipped to the very tits.
And STILL there are those Keebler corpses, requiring attention, lest my co-workers have to suffer and run screaming from the nightmare that is our office kitchen! I shall continue, I am strong. I am an altruist, I sacrifice for my fellow man. The horror, the horror.
Did one of them just twitch?
Several hundred down, several hundred more to go.
Too much sugar. I need to rest a while.
Rosebud.
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WELL, HOW DID I GET HERE?
There is an air of distraction to the streets in C'town nowadays. People seem lost in thought, absent minded, somewhat out of it. And mo...
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Click HERE for an appropriately sad and doleful song.
Mmm, cookies!
Me like cookies!
And galoshes, nut NOT as much as cookies.
Me crazy about cookies.
A good way to dispose of 'em is to throw them into a grinding machine at an egg hatchery - much like baby chicks
The furry blue guy is very entertaining. Your alter agoe, boy?
---Grant Patel
And just eat it. Eat it!
--Grant Michealwasaspacealientel
In fact, he was an albino weasel. Very dangerous daze indeed, most peculiar mama.
---Grant Channeling4thestars
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