Two Truths and a Lie

Oran loathed ice breakers.

“Okay, gang, now let’s try for a fun one two truths and a lie!” The leader of this little workplace team builder event said.  For some reason the words received a round of applause.  Oran understood so little of the office he spent so much time with.  He tuned out as the rules were explained and the first few coworkers told blatant lies as truths.

Oran noticed his turn was quickly approaching.  He racked his brain for a lie.  He was no good at lying.  He pondered a soap pun for a moment, but bailed on the idea as too meta for the crowd.

“Oran, you’re turn! Try to stump us, ye the master of the purchasing department.” The leader said, pointing an open palm at Oran to somehow indicate it was his turn.

Nervous laughter started Oran’s speech.

“Well, let’s see here.  Two truth and a lie.  This is tougher than it seemed at first!  Okay, okay.  I grew up in Nebraska. I am the herald of the intergalactic emperor T’Li the Crusher of Weakness, bound to destroy all those who oppose his rule, and my favorite movie is West Side Story.”

Laughter erupted from the crowd.

“Well, that lie was pretty easy to spot! Thanks for showing us your poker face, Oran! Let’s move right along then.”

The excursion’s leader had skipped the rest of Oran’s turn entirely.  To this point, the vanguard of T’Li’s galactic army had been waffling on sparing Earth and it’s inhabitants from destruction.  This ice breaker event had sent his opinion moving in one very certain direction now.  He had never even seen Nebraska, and now his coworkers would not know such a tidbit.

 

 

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A Compass Unused

“Sure, sure, okay.  I understand your anger.  You’re upset with good reason.  The lake I promised is nowhere in sight.  You may have noticed the humidity is actually going down with each and every step,” Caleb told the rather cross group of hikers before him.

“I certainly did notice!” One particularly displeased hiker replied.

“Confession time for ol’ Caleb.  I have no idea what this compass means.  So we’re going to walk around until someone hears a wave crash or big ol’ bird go ‘ka-kaw’ and make a splash.  Solid plan?” Caleb asked.

The hikers seized the compass and map.

Family Photoshop

“Who’s ready for a photo shoot!” The excited photographer asked the young family of three just entering the studio.

“I think so,” answered Rhonda, “but I don’t quite understand the color scheme you requested.”

“Oh the green?  Don’t worry a thing about that.  This will be a creative journey for you all,” explained the photographer, already putting the family in their positions.

“We are going to pose in front of a green screen? That’s neat!” Davis, holding little baby June, said with excitement as he took his spot.

The photographer took position behind the camera, “Okay, family, all smiles!”

The aperture flew into action. The photographer took to photoshop and a began typing.

“Just one photo?” Rhonda whispered to Davis, “that’s a bit odd, right?”

“And we’re set! Who’s ready to see your family photo?” The photographer asked, jumping from the computer, “behold!”

Davis, Rhonda and the baby exchanged glances before Davis broke the uncomfortable silence.  “That is awesome! I’m a lightning bolt!”

 

 

 

(Terrible) Advice From a (Completely Uninformed) Expert

Dear, Questions for Quinton,

I am having difficulty with a coworker who seems incapable of empathy.  I’ve missed a few days at work due to a family crisis and upon my return, the coworker, I’ll call her “Sam the Sea Monster of Horrid Person Bay,” slams a stack of printed emails onto my desk and howls at me, “your work load is too much for me to cover!”

I was stunned.  I was mourning the loss of a relative and Sam the Sea Monster of Horrid Person Bay took the time to print every email she was cc’d on during my time away just to prove a point.  Yes, my work load is too much for one person to take on in conjunction with their own (that’s why there are two of us!).

How can I show my coworker they are being incredibly too mean and need to be empathetic in this trying time?

Thank you for your insight,

Hurt in Huron.

Dear, Hurt in Huron,

First up; coming back from an extended time away from the office requires one thing upon return.  Re-establish dominance.  Start by Continue reading

Jerri Hit a Road Block

“Oh crap, folks.” Jerri the Fire Ant was displeased.  Her colony had marched for days across desert sands with little to no obstruction.  Now she stared down a green wall thirty times her size and seemingly impenetrable.  The colony would have to find another way.

“This puts an end to this path.  Let’s camp here for the night.  Send scouts to the north and south, see if this…thing has an end,” Jerri commanded.

“Commander, I have an idea,” Frank the Fire Ant spoke from the column.

“What is it, Frank?” Jerri was open to anything at this point. The column had to move.

“Step aside, sir,” Frank walked to the green wall and did what he did best; ate.  “Oh my goodness it is delicious.”

“Frank, you’re a disturbing genius.  Everyone! Eat!” Jerri ordered.

 

And that is how ants discovered salad.

 

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Books, bad art, and mugs available too.

The Mug Shot

“This is public record now, huh?” Mason asked, holding a copy of his mug shot.

“Sure is, kid.  Make better choices now, okay?” Officer Darsen said, handing over the remainder of the recently released criminal’s items.

Mason grabbed a lighter, a coat and a copy of Blues Brothers 2000 he did not remember buying and made his way to his outside, to his very displeased mother idling in a station wagon.

He took the passenger seat and tried to avoid discussion.  He messed up. Bail was expensive. His life was going to get weird and tough as soon as he got home.

His mother did not say a single word on the drive home.  She simply stared at the road and swerved to avoid roadkill on occasion.  The only comment came as the car was turned off and left to rest in the drive way.  Mason watched his mother’s eyes glance to his stack of belongings where, resting on top of the stack, his copy of the mug shot and arrest detail sat.

“I need you to promise me, that mug shot is on the centerpiece for every family holiday gathering from now until I die.  Do you understand? Your punishment is seeing that for all eternity.  When Gramma passes potatoes, it will be over that mug shot.  When your cousin throws corn across the table, it will fly over that mug shot.  This is your promise to me.”  His mother spoke without hint of sarcasm or irony.  Her words were true and to be heeded.

Mason sighed, “fine. I understand.”

Mason would have many regrets in his life.  Chief among them; being arrested at a frat party in clown college.

 

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More fun is to be had by the way of books, mugs, and bad art by clicking the blue text.

Penny and The Great One

Candle light flickered throughout the chamber.  Robed figures stood round a circle and chanted their mystical words in unison.  In due time, the ceremony would be complete and The Great One would rise.

But only if Penny could keep herself from laughing.  She felt like Dr. Stantz at the end of Ghostbusters  thinking of the marshmallow man.  Nothing could stop a memory she hadn’t given thought to in years from being at the forefront of her mind.  Before long, the memory won.

“Penny! Sweet jumping spiders, what’s going on? We can one night in two thousand years to get this right.” Becca said, angrily kicking the stone altar swimming in fresh goat’s blood.

“Sorry, sorry. Let’s try again,” Penny attempted to compose herself.

“Just…keep your focus, okay?” Becca, leader of the high council, ordered.  Penny motioned that she was in control.

Penny was wrong.

“Penny!” Trisha chided as Penny once more broke into laughter.

“Oh golly, my bad, gang,” Penny managed to say between giggles.  The others in the circle had removed their hoods and started to encircle the one ruining the ceremony.

“I can’t stop thinking of our Mario Tennis tournament and the vodka shots for every time Birdo got hit by a ball.  Becca was so gone after that first set,” Penny took in a deep breath, “ah. If our young selves could us now, right?”

The others of the cult exchanged a knowing a glance and Becca made a decision.  “Someone find a VGA cable and fire up the 64, folks.  The Great One can wait!”