Category: A Bad Idea

Cubicle Wars

Office cubicle hell. It's like jail, only with more pay and less drugs.

Oh crap! Some dorky new intern has moved into the cubicle next to mine at work. He has a full view of my computer monitor and knows I’m surfing the internet all day instead of working. The little creep will probably rat on me to the boss before the day is out. I need to get rid of him. But how?

Hot Lunch: Instead of my usual bland sandwiches, I am going to start eating bean and jalapeno tacos, fiery samosas and raw herrings. I can use my desk fan to waft the eye-watering aroma straight towards the little twerp. And the effects of all this spicy food on my digestive system will be a bonus. This tactic worked well for my old apartment neighbours who would leave a pot of cabbage curry bubbling on the stove all day. Bastards.

My Friend Ratty: I must let my cubicle enemy know about the office rat. Watch out intern, he’s a vicious little bugger! I’ve seen him pissing on your keyboard once or twice (doesn’t rat piss make you go blind?) And then I shall clumsily drop taco crumbs all over the floor. Maybe I should invest in a real rat.

It’s Raining Spikes: Oh, I’m so clumsy! I’m always tripping over while carrying huge open boxes full of drawing pins. And that towering stack of paper leaning against the cubicle wall – whoops, there it falls! Sorry intern, are you all right under there? I hope I don’t stumble as I carry this large mug of boiling coffee.

Your boss isn't the only undead menace in your office!Ghost In the Machine: Hey intern, I heard your cubicle is haunted! The last guy who worked there was always complaining about flickering screens, catastrophic data losses and strange voices coming from the speakers. The IT department couldn’t work it out. Strange how the cops have never found that guy’s body…
I don’t know anything about hacking computers or causing electro-magnetic interference, but I’m sure I can inflict some damage with a screwdriver, a handful of drawing pins and a cup of rat piss.

Noisy Neighbour: There’s nothing more annoying than a stream of irritating noises coming from your cubicle neighbour. Maybe I should develop a hacking smoker’s cough, or a severe case of Tourette’s? Or maybe a more sinister noise like a creepy satanic chant? My weedy co-worker would flee in no time. Now, how does that Jihadi suicide attack prayer go?

My office now is a mess of sharp tacks, rotting herrings and rat piss. And the smarmy little fucker is still hard at work, oblivious to my spills, traps and random profane outbursts.

I quit!


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And You Think You’re Having a Bad Day

Next life, he's coming back as a fish dick.

You think you’re having a bad day? Maybe you got to work hoping for a peaceful day surfing the internet, but your boss slapped a pile of work on your desk that will last you until retirement.

Worse than that? Maybe your Aunt Lucy’s life support machine was switched off by mistake. Before she’d changed her Will to leave you a million bucks. That’s bad.

Worse still? You ran over Aunt Lucy’s cat, got fired from your job for spending all day surfing the internet, then got hit by a truck and are now hooked up to life support. That’s pretty bad.

But it could be worse. You could be Sam the Catfish. This is his lousy day story.

I’m watching a TV documentary about some dicks going fishing in a lake in Brazil. These two idiots are chucking in their line or whatever the angling term is, when one of them gets a bite. He excitedly yanks out the line to reveal a wriggling, angry catfish! I’ll call him Sam. I’m not sure if his name really is Sam, but it seems like a good name for a catfish. Anyway, poor Sam is struggling on the line. A bad day for a fish, you think. But get this – half of Sam’s body is missing! The lake is full of fuckin’ piranhas, and Sam’s the lunchtime sushi special!

“Oh dear,” chuckles one of the fishing dicks. “Looks like our supper’s already half eaten!” Poor Sam is half the fish he was this morning, and these guys think it’s funny! But at least Sam has escaped the piranhas…

“Thank goodness!” thinks Sam. “I’ve been rescued from that vicious mob of fish! There is a God after all… ohhhh… uhhhh… where am I…can’t breathe… no… water… oh no… fish dicks!!!”
Not only is Sam suffocating to death, he is also about to get his head smashed in and served for supper. His bad day can’t get any worse, can it?

“Oh, this fish is no good,” dick one says.
“You’re right. Better release the poor fella,” dick two suggests.
Good idea chaps! Throw Sam BACK into the water!
“Fuck.” thinks Sam.

That is what you call having a bad day.


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Super Tiggy

Bah bah bah! Wonder Womaaan!!The other night I was tottering through the snow to the bar when I was accosted by a man on a street corner. This happens a lot, but tonight the request was different.

“You may think I’m crazy…” began the middle-aged guy shivering in his plaid shirt,”But can you do me a favour?”

Before I had chance to kick him in the nuts, he pushed $10 into my hands. $10? I’m worth more than that, buddy.

“Please can you go to the comic store and buy me the Obama Spider Man comic? There’s a limit of one per customer, but I need two for my twin boys…”
Seeing the frosty tears in the poor fella’s eyes I accepted his challenge. Summoning all my acting skills I innocently wandered into the comic book store to purchase the precious comic.

It was my first time in a comic book store. It was a cavern of endless paperback delights, Spider-Man figurines and a feeling that I’d just stepped into another world. And do you know, the guy on the counter just looked like the comic book store guy in The Simpsons. Maybe it’s compulsory.

Then I saw her. She stared back at me from the cover of a comic with a steely face and shiny tiara. My childhood hero. WONDER WOMAN! BA BA BA BA BAABAAA! Suddenly I was five years old again. Wonder Woman KICKED ASS!

When I was five I was convinced I was a superhero. I used to perform daring stunts to prove it. I was Super Tiggy!

Impervious to all dangers. Except kids from the trailer park.– I had amazing jumping powers. I leapt from a garage roof to prove to my buddies I was just like Wonder Woman. I didn’t break my legs, so it must be true.

– I had an invisible space ship. Of course my friends couldn’t see it, it was frigging invisible!

– Peas would magically disappear from my plate using my powers of… feeding them to the dog. My dog could always sense when it was time for his pea-feeding mission, which I put down to my animal telepathy superpowers.

– I could see into the future. I always knew when I was about to get a kicking by the kids from the trailer park. Sadly, my super strength let me down once I was lying on the ground bleeding. Maybe those kids were from Krypton Trailer Park.

Annoyingly, our neighbourhood was never threatened by stray nuclear missiles or three-headed aliens, so my superpowers went untested. I spent most of my time saving drowning bees from the paddling pool, patrolling the streets on my SuperTrike and getting beaten up by my foes from the trailer park. All in a day’s work for Super Tiggy…

“Madam, can I help you? Excuse me, madam, are you looking for something?” barked the comic book store owner.
“Umm… I need a Spider Man Obama comic… It’s for…” I stumbled.
Think, Super Tiggy, think! He’ll realize you are a fraud. Don’t blow it! Don’t let the kids down!

“It’s… four degrees below outside. Bloody freezing!”
“Not a night to be outside, madam. That will be six dollars please…”

Mission accomplished!
BA BA BA BA BAABAAA! It’s Super Tiggy!


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Hog – A Tale for Groundhog Day

Groundhog Day! What could possibly go wrong?

“Welcome all to Rivertown’s annual Groundhog Day!” beamed the Master of Ceremonies, tipping his top hat to the shivering crowd. “Mister Mayor, please bring forth the star of the show – Rivertown Ricky!”

The Mayor stumbled onto the rickety stage, clutching the groundhog in a tight grip. “If this little bastard pees or bites I’m dropping him,” the Mayor snarled through a gritted smile.

The Master doffed his hat to the little creature, and unfurled a paper scroll. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! And the nice lady from Channel 5 News!” He paused and smiled at the television camera hovering below the stage. “Behold Rivertown Ricky’s annual weather prediction!”

The crowd cheered. Rivertown Ricky sneezed. The Mayor shuffled in discomfort.

“Well, let’s see. Hmmm.” The Master paused and frowned at the paper.

“God’s sake, get on with it, Paul!” hissed the Mayor.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it seems little Ricky is playing games with us this year. His message reads:

Forget the winter chill and cold,
There is a story to be told
When blood and fire will embrace
The greedy wanton human race
Your heart will beat and roar and clatter
Your head shall shatter with a splatter
And then the Earth will return once more
To all the creatures that came before.

p.s. It’s going to be very hot… where you are all going.

Signed, Rivertown Ricky.”

The crowd muttered in disbelief. The Mayor glared across the stage at Bob, the committee’s scribe. He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like some prankster has been tampering with our friend’s prediction. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about! Just a bit of fun…” reassured the Master, as he hastily bundled the Mayor and Rivertown Ricky off the stage.

Bloody pranksters, muttered the Mayor. Bloody rat.

* * * * * *

A glum Rivertown Groundhog Day committee assembled in the Mayor’s office.

“What a balls-up!” cried the Mayor as he picked groundhog hairs from his jacket. “A poem about blood and exploding heads, and in front of all those kiddies! What the hell were you thinking, Bob?”

“I didn’t write that!” protested Bob. “I put my poem in Ricky’s cage this morning. The scroll must have been switched. Sandra was looking after him all morning…”

“Don’t blame me!” shouted Sandra. “I only left him for a few moments while I went to top up his water. How could you think it was me?”

The bickering was interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. “Mister Mayor, The river’s turned red!” shouted an excited voice down the line.

* * * * * *

A deep red torrent gushed before the Mayor as he stood on the riverbank. He bent down and poked his hand into the water. A sticky crimson film clung to his fingers. Must be paint or something. Polluting little bastards.

A gaggle of TV crews had assembled at the water’s edge. A microphone was shoved in the Mayor’s face.

“Mister Mayor, is this sabotage? Or do you think there are sinister undertones to your groundhog’s predictions?” “Nothing to worry about,” began the Mayor. “The police are onto the pranksters I’m sure…” his voice trailed off and his eyes began to sparkle. “But, obviously there is the possibility that Rivertown Ricky is trying to tell us something…”

The mayor stared into the camera. “This is quite a mystery. A newsworthy event for our little town. I’m sure this story will be attracting a lot of attention from the world’s media…”

* * * * * *

The Mayor assembled the committee in his office. His mood was somewhat lighter than before.

“Rivertown is all over the television! Even CNN! Knocked those other mangy groundhogs right off the news. Although let me be clear, whoever poured that red crap into the river is going to be severely punished. But in the meantime, let’s try and keep this little prank going, eh?”

“The press wants to see the groundhog, Mister Mayor,” remarked the Master. “But Sandra said he’s a bit frightened of the camera lights, so maybe we should let him rest for now.”

“Goodness no! Get that hairy little bastard in front of the cameras! Give it a carrot, or whatever it eats, and give the press what they want. No time to waste!”

The phone on the Mayor’s desk rang. The Master picked it up.

“Mayor’s office. Yes…what? How could it? That’s impossible…” the Master stared at the committee members in frozen silence. “That was the Chief down at the fire station. He says the whole of Woodside Park is ablaze. He says it’s like a bush fire, homes gone and everything. But it’s minus four outside! How can it…?”

The Mayor shook his head. Bloody pranksters were taking it too far now.

“Holy God, we’ve got a town crawling with press now. Evacuate the town. And when I find out which little bastards have done this…” he flopped down on his seat and shut his eyes.

“Oh, I’m getting indigestion now. Bloody hell. Call the chief back… Call…Goodness, I feel dizzy…”

PTHWCHAAAASPLATTTTTTT!!

“Mister Mayor! Oh my God! Oh MY GOD, Oh MY GOD! Jesus Christ! For the love of GOD someone get an ambulance! Jesus fuc…”

PTHWCHAAAASPLATTTTTTT!!

PTHWCHAAAASPLATTTTTTT!!

Groundhogs don’t know much about the weather. But they can smell Armageddon a mile away.

Happy Groundhog day!

Game over, humans.

PTHWCHAAAASPLATTTTTTT!!


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