My head spends an awful lot of time on idle thinking. Such things may or may not include...
1) - A meeting at the Bond Villain's volcano headquarters. Blofeld type chap sits at the end of the table, stroking his squashed face ugly Persian cat with one hand while fiddling with a cigar cutter with the other. Henchman sit around, fat ones, thin ones, scared ones, oriental ones, ones missing eyes, ones missing limbs. There is a solitary woman amongst them, sporting the correct number of eyes, arms and legs, but looking rather chubby.
"Gentlemen, before we discuss the implementation of "Operation Terror" can I just take this opportunity to give our best wishes to Jacqui from HR, who is going on maternity - and by the way, it isn't mine! Seriously, we wish you all the best, and enjoy being a mum!"
The fingers sporting rings containing poison pick up an envelope from Clinton's Cards. A factotum with a claw for a hand passes a bunch of Waitrose flowers over. A tin of Celebrations is opened, everyone goes straight for the malteser ones.
Well, it happens like this in every fucking workplace I've been in, why not Doctor Death's?
2) Due to navigation error, the Terminator goes too far back in time and finds himself having to kill a 13th Century ancestor of Sarah Connor. Naked, he first has to cloth himself.
"I want your jerkin, your bootikins, and your donkey" he announces to a passing peasant, before taking himself off down the Blacksmith's to get tooled up.
"I want a phased pulse rifle in the 40 megawatt range"
"Prithee Sire, only what you see!"
"The sword, the dagger, and the mace"
"A fine choice young master. All these weapons would surely grace a stout castle, which art thine fancy?"
"All of dem."
"Crivens! Thou shalt not do that, my liege."
"Wrong."
SWIPPPPPPPPEEEEEEE....kudummmmm
No comments:
Post a Comment