A boring, yet amusing story, made on the fly.
Quite subconsciously, I came up with an idea for a rudimentary game involving four-square balls vaguely similar to dodgeball and tag. In the moment that immediately followed this bizarre idea, (and just as fleeting) a void in my mind was filled with the realization that both dry ice cream and fried ice cream were impossibilities. I woke up shortly thereafter, into the reign of fabric-softened bedsheets and a window shade blocking the morning sun's "temperamental" glare, bad pun intended.
Indeed, the pun was a sign that it was time for outside help.
For the task, I went to a reknowned specialist in the field. Her credentials are quite impressive really: an elementary school diploma, high school diploma, AAS, BS, and an MD printed out in crayon. The last is a Masters in Drivelry. It said so on the certificate; all of them hung upon the side wall of the reception area, above a beautifully exotic plant that appeared to be gnawing on the receptionist's desk.
My first impression of the receptionist is still a mystery to myself. I caught her with her headphones on, listening to the latest Beastie Boys CD. She was singing, "Doctor, doctor! What's my condition? I'm a man, that's on a mission! Doc said: Son, you'd better listen! Stuck in your ass is an electrician ! ... "
At this point I made my presence known. "The name's Marquet. Stephen Marquet. Got an appointment in like 20 minutes."
You know, for about 0.6 seconds I actually saw her glance in angered surprise (perhaps before recalling that she's a receptionist ?) before turning to glaze her eyes upon the large computer monitor that had claimed the other half of the desk years earlier. It seems the plant had been battling with the computer's cables over the middle ground for the better part of a year with no clear victor. "Yeah, 'S' dot Market, right ?"
"Go right in. Doc's been waitin'."
This boring story will be continued ! Muwa ha ha ha ha !!! Aha ! Aha ... oh, wow, whew, aha ...