Got this new job workin' for the city parks. I spend the whole day goin' around from place to place, checkin' to see if all them park bathrooms are clean. And the answer is 'no.' No, they ain't.
Dad... this is getting stupid. I already told you and Mom last year that I'm too old to believe in the Easter Bunny. I know. We didn't forget. So why is there a big wicker basket of plastic grass with a greasy pack of hot dogs in it on the floor next to my bed? Oh, great. Now you're telling me that you don't believe in the Sausage Ostrich, either?
Here's the deal in a nutshell, folks. It's probably not what you'll want to hear, but I'm going to give it to you straight. All of you here in sales are going to be replaced over the next two days with a biologically-engineered, sentient jelly. Is this some kind of joke? I wish it was, Glenn. But this came directly from corporate last night. So, are we going to be transferred to another division or something? No, you'll stay right here. You see, we're going to have to allow the "jelly" to slowly consume each one of you, so that it can absorb your knowledge and personality.
Mom! I don't like these pants you got for me. They're the color of poop and the fabric is kind of itchy on my legs. Whoa, kid. Here in the Mirror-World, you ain't playing to win unless you're sporting a scratchy pair of diarrhea-brown slacks. Then these look good on me? Nah. Everything here is backwards. In your realm... better prepare to be a social pariah.
Ahhh... finally! A three-day weekend. I'm going to sit here in my pajamas — channel surfing, munching salty carbs and supping cold beer the entire time. Don't forget, Ted... I need you to take the kids to soccer tomorrow morning and then to swimming. Also, we have church and your mom's birthday party Sunday. I know, honey. I was just taking a brief moment to fantasy role-play that I still have some semblance of a person life. It keeps my soul from imploding.
