If you feel like getting fired, please do as Mr. Sean Smith #comedy #satire

Working for Heat

 by Donovan Sotam


Sean is trying to get a raise with Mike's help.

‘So, what we need to do Mike, is: climb up that tree, reach the second floor, cut the window with the diamond tip pen and move from there.’ said a very confident Sean.
‘Why can’t we just enter through the front door?’ We both know the access code.’ In fact every other person in a mile radius of that building knew the access code. It was the famous 1234 code that comes with that lock.
‘Well, where would be all the fun in breaking in, if we were just to enter in. No, no! We must do this properly.’
‘Ahh, yes, where would all the fun be in trying to avoid physical damage, from let’s say…’ a small pause while he observed his surroundings ‘falling down from the tree?’
‘Ohh, shut up, Mike, you’re taller than me, you could probably reach the second floor without the tree.’
‘Very funny Sean. Tall people’s jokes! Haha.’ replied a bit angry and even more sleepy Mike.
Eventually they decided to just go through the front door, since the window that was cut led to a storage room that was closed from the outside. They made their way into their boss’ office in a very cinematographic way, jumping, diving into the cover of a desk, running and sneaking, all to avoid, what apparently was not missing the chance to use the cheap ninja costumes to the fullest.
They were now in the waiting room and Mike picked up the National Geographic and started whistling the National Geographic theme.
Yeah, I read it this morning’ said Sean. ‘There’s an interesting article on Atlantis.’
‘Where did they find it, this time?’
Sean didn’t answer for he had managed to pick the lock of Mr. Anderson’s office.

Learn how to conquer the planet on your lunch breaks [Humor]

Supervillain: The Concise Guide

By Ras Ashcroft

A popular brand of dictionary defines the term ‘Supervillain’ as follows:

su•per•vil•lain [soo-per-vil-uh n]: A malicious person usually involved in complex schemes to achieve an ambitious evil end goal such as world domination.

This is a white lie since dictionaries do not even bother to define the term. Perhaps it is because they think that ‘Supervillain’ is a title which bears no real significance outside fiction. Another more probable theory hints at a massive conspiracy involving the heads of the powerful dictionary-industrial complex. Whatever the reason, many average people still aspire to achieve this title. They wish to experience the simple (and clichéd) pleasures of relaxing in a diamond palace on a throne crafted from the skulls of their enemies.

By reading this book, you have taken the first step towards achieving these nefarious goals! Along the way, your loved ones will tell you that this is a ridiculous path to follow. They will tout the merits of following a more traditional career path, such as a Marketing Executive for a major brand or a Cat Groomer for upper class spinsters. Pay little attention to these naysayers. The only Marketing Executives you should worry about are the ones you will eventually hire to manage your propaganda. Similarly, the only cats worth grooming will be the genetically modified lions under your command.

From "The Betrothal: Or How I Saved Alan Edwards from 40 Years of Hell" by Richard Raley

Tad walked by his fish-tank.

“Got any new ones?” I asked and instantly regretted the good manners my mother had whipped into me.

“Nah, man.  I got too many, and they’re kind of breeding now, so I don’t want to introduce a new species that will start eating the little ones.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re standing here and suddenly there’s a feeding frenzy with sharks gnawing on tuna heads,” Tad defended.

I followed him into his bedroom.  “Basically you go to bed at night and when you wake up some of the smaller fish have gone off to see the Big-Fishie-in-the-Sky?”

“Exactly.  I mean, there isn’t even any blood.  Just the occasional floating fin…they don’t like eating the fins.  And you got the mini pool-scooper for that, don’t even have to touch it.”

“Why couldn’t you have gotten a dog?”

“You find me a dog that glows in the dark and I’ll buy one,” Tad said as he started packing his duffle-bag like suitcase with clothes and bathroom supplies.

“With the miracles of science, you never know.”

From "Excuse me, where is the exit?" by Stella Deleuze

It's time to leave and everyone puts on their coat. Meaning three of you - the one you can't stand doesn't. A very important rule for being a real British girl is to go out nearly naked, even in the winter. The less you wear the more you deserve to be called British, well stupid British to be precise. You'd rather not be labelled like this and therefore are wrapped up in several layers.

Freezing to death - as much as you're suffering and said you want to die the past week, you wouldn't take it this far. Once you're over your ex, you'll be able to enjoy life again. No need for such drastic actions. Outside, the cold wind blows into your face. The 'naked' girl shakes violently. No surprises there then.

From "Candy Kisses and Bullet Holes Fill Her Up" by Christopher Wright

"I AM THE ROBORACLE.”

“I know who you are, so stop saying that.” Maybe it should be a relief that the monster I came to slay is just my extremely obnoxious, vaguely prophetic, former robot companion, but the problem is he’s extremely obnoxious.  He’s always saying things like “I AM THE ROBORACLE” and “THE FATES SAY YOU ARE BONED”.  The best part of being a space slave was not having to hear him every day.

“THE ROBORACLE WONDERS WHERE YOU’VE COME FROM. VICTOR.”

“I don’t have time for this.  Where’s Emma?”

“THE FATES DEMAND AN ANSWER. WHERE HAVE YOU COME FROM?”

Arrrhg.

“From outside!”

“HOW FAR FROM THE RIVER?”

“What?  I’m not an odometer!  Go measure for yourself.”

“THE ROBORACLE’S MOTHER WAS AN ODOMETER. SHE WOULD TELL THE ROBORACLE STORIES OF HER TRAVELS EVERY NIGHT. 10 MILES. 15 MILES. 68.3 MILES.  THE NUMBERS RARELY REPEATED. THE ROBORACLE WAS ENTHRALLED. THEN THE FATES PLAYED STYX FOR THE ROBORACLE. AND THE ROBORACLE NEVER SPOKE TO THE ROBORACLE’S MOTHER AGAIN. IS THAT WHY YOU’VE COME. VICTOR? TO LISTEN TO STYX?”

From "The Trouble with Green" by Liv James

After Josie leaves town to put out a fire at one of her inns, her husband has a tense encounter with an unwanted guest...

This changed things.

He swirled the brown liquid in his glass and shot it back. Frank was there immediately to refill it.

“Thanks man,” Jeff said, meaning more than the bourbon.

“You okay?” Frank asked. “I haven’t seen you that pissed in years.”

“Not sure.”

“Who was that guy? He had the stink of the city on him.”

“That he does. That guy,” Jeff took another drink and grimaced. “That guy could have been Josie’s brother-in-law, if you can believe it.”

“No.”

“We’ve been together eight years. Have you seen her? I wasn’t her first boyfriend.”

“I never imagined her with anyone else,” Frank said, swiping a white cloth across the bar and pocketing the five.

“I don’t like to.”

“Don’t worry. She’s your wife now. She’s as faithful as they come.”

“Yeah, I know. But I just found out she almost married someone else. Guess I’m surprised she never mentioned it.”

Frank shrugged. “Must not have been that important.”

Jeff threw back the rest of his drink. “I need to check on Emma.”

“Don’t let it get to you,” Frank said. “She’s with you now. One hundred percent with you.”

 “Yeah. And I plan to keep it that way.”