Your eyes say no, but your boobs say... well, they also say no. I just like to listen to them.
"Take a break, Kel. I'll take over the exercise. OK, Robert. I'm your boss and you're asking me for a raise. Remember, Three P's! OK, here we go..." Chance or Dongle or whatever actually pretended to step out of the room, opening a fake door and everything. "Hiya, Robert! You've been doing some great work lately!"
"On your wife," I replied. Which was awesome.
"That is not appropriate for a work environment. Just... really pretend that I'm your boss, Robert. Pretend that I'm whoever is in charge in your life, and react to me like that--but be confident!" He mimed stepping out of the door again like a dickhead (because anybody that mimes anything does so "like a dickhead.")
His words really struck me this time, though. I came here to improve, after all. I came here to be a better, stronger man. I really had to portray that strength.
"Heya, Robert!" He began, emerging through his douchebag door. "Great work you've beeAAAAAAAAHH CHRIST ALMIGHTY!"
I briefly stopped biting Chalupa or Doo-wap or whatever to see if he was OK. He was really good at this roleplaying stuff--this even tasted like real blood.
"What in God's name are you doing?!" He screamed.
"I'm being confident!" I answered proudly, baring my teeth like I've seen confident people do in those movies where confident people rise from the grave and devour the living.
"That's...OK. Deep breath," he said to himself, "all in God's name, Dean,"
"Dingle," I corrected.
"OK," he said, sighing, "let's do this again, and the confidence is good! But no physical violence, OK?" He stepped out of the imaginary doorway again.
"You forgot to close that," I informed him.
"Oh right, sorry I'll just-" he stopped midsentence. A look of despair overtook him.
I smiled pleasantly.
"OK, Robert. I feel like we've made some great progress here these past 14 hours, but let's try this one more time! I know you can get this! And remember, how do people show confidence?" Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers asked me.
"With words," I replied.
"And how do we
"By mounting people and thrusting my hips into them," I replied.
"Like...?" He prodded.
"Like dogs do," I answered shamefully.
"Excellent! So last time, and remember: Believe in yourself and you will have power! The immense power that can only be given to you from God!"
"Ackle backle," grunted the spastic faux-Chinese divorcee, "urgle."
"Hey there, sport!" Chortles chirped, stepping in the door. "Good work you've been doing lately!"
work." I corrected him.
"Hey... that's... that's good
. That's really good! Oh thank Christ, that's fantastic, Robert! Continue!"
"I am an asset to this company, sir," I pressed on, feeling more confident all the while, "and a valuable one. My talents and merits are going vastly unappreciated here lately and I just feel like you may be taking all of my hard work for granted."
"Good," Charles in Charge cried, actual tears streaming down his face. "This is so good!"
"I just really feel like you've made me powerless lately, but that's a falsehood," I went on, a strange flush heating my skin. "That is a falsehood because I HAVE POWER THROUGH GOD!"
Pictured: Salvation (or a successful touchdown.)
"BORKINS BOP A DOO WOP," screamed Kelly, suddenly seizing and falling to the floor, her breasts vigorously jiggling with the spirit of the lord.
has given me power! And it is only His
to give! Only His
to lord over me! No man has the power of God! No man has power over me!" I felt all control over my voice slipping; it was reaching a booming crescendo that took me quite by surprise.
!" bellowed CherZ1 or whatever.
"I ALONE AM GIVEN POWER BY GOD. I ALONE AM GIVEN POWER OVER MAN BY HIS WILL!" I was also surprised to find myself kicking over chairs at this point, while nearly half of the other participants flailed on the floor like an epileptic orgy.
"Wait, Robert this is getting out of hand a litt-"
"I AM THE POWER! I AM POWER!" I chanted relentlessly, taking the bourbon and lighter from my sack. I tore a strip of cloth from Kelly's T-shirt, who was starting to froth at the mouth a little like a sexy little rabid fox, and stuffed it into the bottle.
"I AM POWER! I AM POWER! AND YOU!" I pointed at Cheeseburger and Danish or whatever with my now lit Molotov cocktail. "YOU HAVE BLASPHEMED AGAINST ME!"
"Oh God, no. OH JESUS GOD HE'S CRAZY! SOMEBODY HELP! GOD! GOD SAVE ME!" He babbled, scrabbling away in terror.
"God? GOD?! FIRE IS YOUR ONLY GOD NOW, SON, AND I WILL SHOW YOU HOW BEST TO WORSHIP IT."
And his commandments are gasoline and pain.
The bottle left my hand, and the flush in my skin became fire, and the fire became manifest from my body. The holy inferno began to consume the church around me, while the seminar-goers jerked and wailed through the flames. The beams buckled and broke; the choking heat wove a tapestry of Hellfire through the loom of God's house, and all of its threads... were death
When the firemen arrived, they found me just emerging from the conflagration,Â the helpless, spent and still body of Kelly resting gently in my arms. She alone was safe--safe and grateful--blissfully unaware of anything that had happened since The Spirit had taken her.
"What... what's going on?" She asked me, her voice weak and uncertain.
"I delivered you," I reassured her. "I delivered you from fire."
"...And then we totally had sex right against the firetruck and that's why you should give me a raise," I finished telling David Wong, acting editor.
He was silent for a long, long time.
"First of all: Please at least refrain from following me into the bathroom during these stories, Robert. And second," he said, stepping away from the urinal and shaking it (side to side, like a Frenchman), "I'm pretty sure none of that happened. According to your expense reports you spent all last weekend doing 'research' for your next drug-based article in the alley behind the Stop 'N Save. And finally: I'm just in charge of Editorial for like a week. I can't even give raises."
"Oh... OK," I said, trying not to let my disappointment show.
"Do you at least want to play fisticuffs then?" I held my hands outstretched before him, "I've been practicing."
Find Robert on Twitter
and his own site, I Fight Robots
, where you can read more epic lies and... actually that's pretty much it. Just the epic lies.
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