<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d7964919\x26blogName\x3dBill+And+Dave+Are+Dead\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://billanddave.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://billanddave.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d4370529864444180878', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe", messageHandlersFilter: gapi.iframes.CROSS_ORIGIN_IFRAMES_FILTER, messageHandlers: { 'blogger-ping': function() {} } }); } }); </script>

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Victory

Five in the afternoon I walked through the side door employee entrance which led to the longest hallway on the first floor of the building. As I cruised down the hallway into the bowels of the production areas, I was paying close attention to the floor tiles. I wanted to survey my diabolical work from last Friday night. Scanning the ground in front of my feet I saw what I was hoping for. Filthy dark black circles were everywhere on the floor. Weeeehooooo! I started laughing to myself in a most evil sounding way. One of my fangs poked out between my lips due to my self-satisfied smirking and I could almost feel the devil horns rising through my forehead.

As I approached the main hallway intersection I stopped and peeked around both corners, first to my right then to my left. That's when I saw him. Mr. Janitor was on his hands and kees to my left. He was feverishly scraping away at the floor with a straight edge razor blade in one hand and he was covered in sweat. He's gonna be extra stinky tonight, I thought to myself. I was starting to laugh so hard that I broke right and took a rat-maze path through the commercial area and the chemical lab to get over to the Closed Area. I figured walking by Mr. Janitor and laughing insanely might be too incriminating and I wanted to avoid him completely. I was laughing so hard by then that I had tears in my eyes. My plan had worked beautifully and now I knew that every Friday night I could fuck him up so severely that he would be my de-facto bitch from now on. I was happy.

At lunch I went out with about a half dozen of the guys and told them what I had done. They really dug it since they've all been burned by Mr. Janitor at one time or another. A brainstorming session erupted over the restaurant table. What else could we do to Mr. Janitor to make his life even more miserable? The suggestions kept coming forward while we sat and ate. All of us were laughing and looking forward to this coming Friday when we could put together another round of hate crimes on dopey Mr. Janitor. This Friday is going to be fun! Next Monday will be a sad time for Mr. Janitor, guaranteed! I can hardly wait.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home