Thursday, March 22, 2007

Really...what would you do?

Have you finally figured out an answer to last week's business-etiquette question? You probably vomitted staplers and jerked yourself off in the data center because you were thinking so hard about it. Well, pull up a stack of year-end reports and sit on them...cause here comes another question, another TYPICAL, EVERYDAY situation that REGULARLY unfolds in offices from Portland to Portland (there's Portlands in two states and they're on each end of the!) Read the details and then choose what the correct course of action would be. You're such a doll, you.


It's one of those really hectic mornings at your corporation--a big client presentation, a going-away party for the retarded janitor Glerbaff (really, Glerbaff, that's her name) and the monthly flood drill (during which 64 million gallons of water are dumped into your building and everyone has to swim to the desert island on the eighth floor). Now, just as the flood drill gets underway and you start executing a perfect sidestroke through the executive assistant's cubicle, Frankie Muniz enters the office. Yeah, that Frankie Muniz -- of "Malcolm in the Middle" fame. "Oh crapstand!" you exclaim, relaizing you've forgotten that today is also the day you were scheduled to cover Frankie Muniz' face with butter. Muniz is standing there, in neck-deep water, glaring at you and waiting for his Land O Lakes facial. It's important that he receives this because he's made it clear that if his face is left unbuttered, he'll fill your entire office in with Staind CDs. But it's also important that you get to that desert island on the eighth floor with the rest of your colleagues. If you all don't all get there within 5 minutes, your CEO is gonna blow up Dubai (the blossoming Middle Eastern city-state that has the world's highest tennis court! I swear, that's true, it's like on 98th floor of a building). Good gracious. What do you doooooo?

a) Kill Muniz with the dagger you keep in your shoe and get to the island as fast as possible. (We're talking about a VERY important tennis court here.)

b) Start buttering up Muniz' face and use your sweet blue tooth head thing to call your co-worker Kenblicht and tell her to power up the hologram of you she keeps with her at ALL TIMES. That way, it'll appear to your CEO that you're on the island and he will spare Dubai and its high-altitude sports courts.

c) Find the retarded janitor Glerbaff and fuck her and fuck her and fuck her and fuck her until she does that weird mule-like whimper thing and drools on your dong. I mean, you have to stop then. That whimper's just sick.