|
And For My Next Trick 241 words. For years we couldn't shift these things, no matter how hard we tried. Plastic magic wands. You know, the black kind with the white ends? I've had the cardboard box sat under the tills for years. I was in the shop one morning, leaning back on my chair, when I heard the door chime do its little ting-a-ling. "Crap," I thought, "I haven't turned the lights on!" So I grabbed one of these pieces of junk from the cardboard box. I leant over and poked the light switch with it from my chair. It was a middle aged guy who came into the store. He was wearing a mask , rubber gloves, plastic goggles and an apron. I don't think I've ever seen such paranoia. He said, "that's such a good idea!" Right behind him, this old woman shuffled in, she asked the guy, "what is a good idea?" "Touching the switches with a plastic rod so you don't catch the virus from it." "Well I'll take it from you, doctor," said the old woman. "That's right!" I said, "these plastic wands even have detachable ends so you can boil the germs off one while you're using the other." "And inside of here," I said, "there's, not one, but seven free handkerchiefs all tied together for ease of access." Well, I can't believe they bought it. Not just those two, but everyone. I just need to figure out how to tie this in with scooby strings, yo-yo's and fidget spinners now. Azza Bamboo fucked around with this message at 02:53 on Mar 17, 2020 |
#
¿
Mar 17, 2020 02:45
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ Apr 25, 2024 14:26 |
|
|
In
|
|
#
¿
Mar 24, 2020 11:20
|
|
|
In and flash
|
|
#
¿
Mar 31, 2020 17:59
|
|