You can't trust anyone these days...
I woke up this morning to find that everyone besides Mike had run off during the night. There was a small pile of resignation letters on the desk.
We had no choice. We had to get out there.
You see, in their hurry to leave, those traitorous assholes left the entrance to the store wide open. The shop was already full of custombies... Mike convinced me to let him come help man the defense posts/registers. He may only have on working arm, but 3 arms are better than 2, right?
I'll never forgive myself for letting him do that.
He managed to serve 8 custombies before they started to realize that he was weak. Defenseless. Before they could overrun him though, Mike did something reckless. He slammed a "closed" sign across his defense, concussing one of the custombies and preventing any more from coming through that way. He leapt over the bench, grabbed a long line of trolleys, and yelled for me to help.
I assured the custombie I was serving that I would return shortly (for fear of getting fired), then ran to him. Together, we pushed the trolley line back to the hallway that leads to the staff room. We managed to create a barricade by jamming the trolleys up against the staff room entrance, me pulling from one side, and Mike using his greater body weight to push from the other side.
But by the time it was in place, custombies had crowded around Mike. I was unable to help, as I was still stuck behind the trolleys. He yelled to me, "Stay here! I'll go get help!", then charged through the custombies like a steroid-taking footballer with rhinocerous ancestry. The custombies followed him away, leaving me behind the barricade.
That was this morning.
Now, its 11:46pm. He hasn't come back yet...
- Steven Gints
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
28 Items Later - Day 5
Today, the supervisors crossed the line.
There we were, serving the endless hoards of custombies again, when it started to get busy. We expected to hear an "Express Alert", but it never came. We worked harder, trying to keep up with the custombies' rising numbers. But today was the day the custombies brought out a new weapon...
It seems that during the night, a custombie broke into the store and placed a sign near the 30-can boxes of soft drink. The sign read "2 for $1". This had a terrible effect on us. Every custombie in sight was carrying 2 or more of those boxes. Serving them was a nightmare... Not only would they complain about prices and have their offspring shout at us til our eardrums burst, but they also made us physically scan every single one of those boxes.
And 30 cans of soft drink equates to quite a heavy box. We tried to tell the custombies that we could "scan" them with the computers at the registers/defense posts, but as we all know... custombies ain't that bright. Even if they were smart enough to breathe and walk at the same time, I doubt they'd refrain from handing us those heavy boxes to scan.
Within minutes we were completely drained. We lost 6 people today...
The few of us that survived got back to the staffroom, arms practically broken, mad as all hell at the supervisors that had decided not to give us the backup we needed... When we made a horrible discovery.
The managers office had been locked, and noone was answering our cries of anger. Eventually we broke the door down, and found the room was empty. A hole had been dug in the ground, just large enough for a person to fit into.
Pete investigated for us. He dropped into the hole, and called back to us that it was a tunnel. A tunnel that went for roughly 500 metres, then came back up through the ground. He could see the light of day at the very end. He hurried towards it, urging us to follow. That tunnel had good acoustics, lemme tell you. We could hear everything he said, crystal clear.
Suddenly though, we heard the faint voice of the manager:
"Sorry Pete, but we can't leave this open. They might follow us."
There was the sound of a massive explosion and the tunnel collapsed, burying Pete alive somewhere near the end of it.
If I live through this, I'm going to find those bastards and avenge his death.
- Steven Gints
There we were, serving the endless hoards of custombies again, when it started to get busy. We expected to hear an "Express Alert", but it never came. We worked harder, trying to keep up with the custombies' rising numbers. But today was the day the custombies brought out a new weapon...
It seems that during the night, a custombie broke into the store and placed a sign near the 30-can boxes of soft drink. The sign read "2 for $1". This had a terrible effect on us. Every custombie in sight was carrying 2 or more of those boxes. Serving them was a nightmare... Not only would they complain about prices and have their offspring shout at us til our eardrums burst, but they also made us physically scan every single one of those boxes.
And 30 cans of soft drink equates to quite a heavy box. We tried to tell the custombies that we could "scan" them with the computers at the registers/defense posts, but as we all know... custombies ain't that bright. Even if they were smart enough to breathe and walk at the same time, I doubt they'd refrain from handing us those heavy boxes to scan.
Within minutes we were completely drained. We lost 6 people today...
The few of us that survived got back to the staffroom, arms practically broken, mad as all hell at the supervisors that had decided not to give us the backup we needed... When we made a horrible discovery.
The managers office had been locked, and noone was answering our cries of anger. Eventually we broke the door down, and found the room was empty. A hole had been dug in the ground, just large enough for a person to fit into.
Pete investigated for us. He dropped into the hole, and called back to us that it was a tunnel. A tunnel that went for roughly 500 metres, then came back up through the ground. He could see the light of day at the very end. He hurried towards it, urging us to follow. That tunnel had good acoustics, lemme tell you. We could hear everything he said, crystal clear.
Suddenly though, we heard the faint voice of the manager:
"Sorry Pete, but we can't leave this open. They might follow us."
There was the sound of a massive explosion and the tunnel collapsed, burying Pete alive somewhere near the end of it.
If I live through this, I'm going to find those bastards and avenge his death.
- Steven Gints
Saturday, June 28, 2008
28 Items Later - Day 4
Well, the supervisors made good on their promise of an emergency plan. Too bad they didn't tell us what it was.
In the middle of the daily battle against the custombies, we were starting to feel overrun. 3 Express alerts were called, but the custombies just kept on coming through, many of them complaining about prices or wielding hungry babies.
Then it happened.
Back the staffroom, someone hit the fire alarm. Within minutes the custombies had charged out of the store, ensuring our survival for at least one more day. Unfortunately, the fire alarm also caused 2 of the staff members to panic and follow the custombies out. They never returned.
Me and the other defense post operators are planning a mutiny if the supervisors ever pull a stunt like that again.
- Steven Gints
In the middle of the daily battle against the custombies, we were starting to feel overrun. 3 Express alerts were called, but the custombies just kept on coming through, many of them complaining about prices or wielding hungry babies.
Then it happened.
Back the staffroom, someone hit the fire alarm. Within minutes the custombies had charged out of the store, ensuring our survival for at least one more day. Unfortunately, the fire alarm also caused 2 of the staff members to panic and follow the custombies out. They never returned.
Me and the other defense post operators are planning a mutiny if the supervisors ever pull a stunt like that again.
- Steven Gints
Friday, June 27, 2008
28 Items Later - Day 3
DEAR GOD.
DEAR. FUCKING. GOD.
They've started using psychological warfare...
So it turns out that the custombies don't just sit around waiting for the store to re-open during the night - they breed. They came through today with... hundreds of crying custombie babies... It drove us mad...
We weren't able to work as fast as we normally could, and as a result, 3 staff members were consumed. Oh God... It was horrible... THE BABIES DON'T EVEN CHEW!!!
THEY JUST EAT!!!
I'm lucky I survived. The supervisors told us they have an emergency plan that they can carry out if things get way too intense... Unfortunately they told us this AFTER we'd closed shop for the day. Me and the other staff members are quickly losing confidence in them.
- Steven Gints
DEAR. FUCKING. GOD.
They've started using psychological warfare...
So it turns out that the custombies don't just sit around waiting for the store to re-open during the night - they breed. They came through today with... hundreds of crying custombie babies... It drove us mad...
We weren't able to work as fast as we normally could, and as a result, 3 staff members were consumed. Oh God... It was horrible... THE BABIES DON'T EVEN CHEW!!!
THEY JUST EAT!!!
I'm lucky I survived. The supervisors told us they have an emergency plan that they can carry out if things get way too intense... Unfortunately they told us this AFTER we'd closed shop for the day. Me and the other staff members are quickly losing confidence in them.
- Steven Gints
Thursday, June 26, 2008
28 Items Later - Day 2
By the usual standards this was a very good day. We managed to fight off the custombies, and no-one was lost. But it was a close call.
Something worrying happened near the end of the wave of custombies. One particular custombie decided to complain about the price of a bottle of milk to Jane, who was serving it. We had to send someone to check the price of the milk, during which time the custombies behind the one who was bitching about milk got very restless. They started shouting at people.
Thankfully we were able to lure these restless custombies to other registers before they decided to abandon the shopping pretext and just attack Jane. Later on in the staffroom a thought occurred...
"What if they ALL start doing that?"
That was a worrying problem. If they all started demanding pricechecks, we could be completely destroyed in less than a day. We had to all start facing the possibility that the custombies had found a weakness in what we thought was a good defense strategy.
The manager's taken the supervisors into his office to work out a solution. I sure hope they think of one quick.
- Steven Gints
Something worrying happened near the end of the wave of custombies. One particular custombie decided to complain about the price of a bottle of milk to Jane, who was serving it. We had to send someone to check the price of the milk, during which time the custombies behind the one who was bitching about milk got very restless. They started shouting at people.
Thankfully we were able to lure these restless custombies to other registers before they decided to abandon the shopping pretext and just attack Jane. Later on in the staffroom a thought occurred...
"What if they ALL start doing that?"
That was a worrying problem. If they all started demanding pricechecks, we could be completely destroyed in less than a day. We had to all start facing the possibility that the custombies had found a weakness in what we thought was a good defense strategy.
The manager's taken the supervisors into his office to work out a solution. I sure hope they think of one quick.
- Steven Gints
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
28 Items Later - Day 1
My name is Steven Gints. I've decided to keep a diary of my thoughts so that others who find this diary can get an idea of the hell I'm going through... or what to expect if it happens to them.
I work at a supermarket. Well... they call it work... I call it holding out. For the past couple of weeks, me and the other staff members have been fending off the custombies that flood the store every day the only way we know how: serving them. But there are times when we simply can't hold them back...
One of the scariest things I've heard these days is "EXPRESS ALERT". When I hear that, I know that the staff members who are guarding the store are about to be overrun by the custombies. We all rush out of our stronghold, the staffroom, and battle our way to the defense posts, or as they used to be called...registers.
With all hands on deck, we can usually make it through the storm of mindless shoppers. But when the storm dies down... And you see that a couple of defense posts are emptied, with only a pool of blood and a nametag left... You can't imagine how that feels.
We lose more people every week. Yesterday, Mike had his arm severed after the Express alert was called. He may never operate a register again. Now he sits in the staffroom, bandaged up, trying to comfort the staff members who have seen their friends torn to shreds in a flurry of eftpos cards and $50 notes. Its good to see that he's still doing something.
I must go - its my turn to keep watch. Hopefully I'll be back to write again.
- Steven Gints
I work at a supermarket. Well... they call it work... I call it holding out. For the past couple of weeks, me and the other staff members have been fending off the custombies that flood the store every day the only way we know how: serving them. But there are times when we simply can't hold them back...
One of the scariest things I've heard these days is "EXPRESS ALERT". When I hear that, I know that the staff members who are guarding the store are about to be overrun by the custombies. We all rush out of our stronghold, the staffroom, and battle our way to the defense posts, or as they used to be called...registers.
With all hands on deck, we can usually make it through the storm of mindless shoppers. But when the storm dies down... And you see that a couple of defense posts are emptied, with only a pool of blood and a nametag left... You can't imagine how that feels.
We lose more people every week. Yesterday, Mike had his arm severed after the Express alert was called. He may never operate a register again. Now he sits in the staffroom, bandaged up, trying to comfort the staff members who have seen their friends torn to shreds in a flurry of eftpos cards and $50 notes. Its good to see that he's still doing something.
I must go - its my turn to keep watch. Hopefully I'll be back to write again.
- Steven Gints
Monday, June 23, 2008
Zombiemartocalypse
As at least one of you may know, I work as a checkout chap at Woolworths. After almost 2 years of this, I've lost all faith in mankind, lost all feeling in my legs on no less than 8 occasions, and had a lot of time to think.
But, as you all should know, I'm not big on the idea of inflicting pain on myself, so I don't think very often.
But, as you all should know, I'm not big on the idea of inflicting pain on myself, so I don't think very often.
HOWEVERS
A couple of days ago, there was a small spark of brain activity. For that one moment, instead of an arm-waving zoned out sponge, I was an arm-waving zoned out sponge with an IDEA.
The store was consequently evacuated and the area around my register was cordoned off until the end of my shift.
The thought in question came when the number of customers in the store suddenly exploded, followed by frequent calls of "EXPRESS ALERT - ALL CHECKOUT TRAINED OPERATORS TO THE REGISTERS" to stop the gormless fuckers from starting a riot while waiting to be served.
While my arms did their job of scanning crap and stuffing it into bags, my eyes took in the chaos in its entirety. It was then that I thought to myself:
"This is like a zombie movie or something... Ouch! Fuck! Thinking! Stop!"
I decided to build on that thought. And so, I am compelled to announce...
A couple of days ago, there was a small spark of brain activity. For that one moment, instead of an arm-waving zoned out sponge, I was an arm-waving zoned out sponge with an IDEA.
The store was consequently evacuated and the area around my register was cordoned off until the end of my shift.
The thought in question came when the number of customers in the store suddenly exploded, followed by frequent calls of "EXPRESS ALERT - ALL CHECKOUT TRAINED OPERATORS TO THE REGISTERS" to stop the gormless fuckers from starting a riot while waiting to be served.
While my arms did their job of scanning crap and stuffing it into bags, my eyes took in the chaos in its entirety. It was then that I thought to myself:
"This is like a zombie movie or something... Ouch! Fuck! Thinking! Stop!"
I decided to build on that thought. And so, I am compelled to announce...
Starting wednesday, and ending... next wednesday, I will write a daily diary entry about a miscellaneous supermarket employee who is struggling to survive the daily onslaught of customers a.k.a. ZOMBIES. He is not alone in his fight for survival however - other staff members are with him, each one trying to ensure that they all live through the day.
Their will is strong, but the custombies come by the thousands...
How long will they last?
Squirrel245
"Don't ask why
Don't be sad
Sometimes we all must alter paths we planned."
Their will is strong, but the custombies come by the thousands...
How long will they last?
Squirrel245
"Don't ask why
Don't be sad
Sometimes we all must alter paths we planned."
- "Lost & Damned" by Kamelot
Friday, June 20, 2008
Lame-ageddon
AAAAHHHHH!!!!
AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!
Mimeflare!
I mean mightnare!
...
NIGHTMARE!!!
So yea... Last night I had a nightmare. And HOLY MOTHER of FUCK it was horrible...
Before I went to sleep, I was thinking something along the lines of "God... the general quality of movies these days is steadily going downhill... zzzzzzzzzzzz"
And because of that seemingly harmless thought, I was subjected to a nightmare.
Rob Schneider, John Travolta, and Barbara Streisand were all starring in a highschool chick-flick, and the whole movie was directed by Michael Bay.
And guess who was being forced to watch it?
*shudder*
I'm going to go curl up in a corner in a fetal position and stare at the wall for a few hours. The healing must begin.
Squirrel245
"We HAVE to kill them, or else they'll die."
AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!
Mimeflare!
I mean mightnare!
...
NIGHTMARE!!!
So yea... Last night I had a nightmare. And HOLY MOTHER of FUCK it was horrible...
Before I went to sleep, I was thinking something along the lines of "God... the general quality of movies these days is steadily going downhill... zzzzzzzzzzzz"
And because of that seemingly harmless thought, I was subjected to a nightmare.
Rob Schneider, John Travolta, and Barbara Streisand were all starring in a highschool chick-flick, and the whole movie was directed by Michael Bay.
And guess who was being forced to watch it?
*shudder*
I'm going to go curl up in a corner in a fetal position and stare at the wall for a few hours. The healing must begin.
Squirrel245
"We HAVE to kill them, or else they'll die."
- Jimbo Kern
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Computer Animals
Greeting, ye who stare at a monitor to the extent that they start to feel uncomfortable.
I've come to the internet today to bitch about computers.
BUT FIRST... some history. Gather round the flames of this brown paper bag full of something that doesn't smell quite right... and prepare to learnify.
Many moons ago, before Earth had finally made up its mind about what kind of moon it actually wanted, there lived a man named Gill Bates. One day, Gill Bates was sitting on a rock, throwing stones at passing black bears when he thought to himself:
"I should totally make like, a magic box. That'd be killer."
And so, after finding an empty box and buying a magic wand, he Voodoo-priested the shit out of said box until it started to hum, whirr, and beep. Satisfied, he went to sleep.
The next day however, he thought to himself:
"I should totally like, plug a TV into this thing. That'd be killer."
And so, after raiding a shopping centre, he got a TV and plugged it into his magic box. His eyes lit up when he saw what a masterpiece this wonderful unity of magic and... television was. The colours! The changing of the colours! The reverting of the colours back to their original colours!
But then he noticed something. While the TV was working just fine, the magic box wouldn't do anything. Using his incredible mindbrain, a lid from a jar of jam which clicked when pressed, and several kilograms of marijuana, Gill Bates created the first ever computer mouse. Later that night he got drunk, invented the alphabet, then put each individual letter on a separate button and nailed the buttons to a plank of wood. Thus, the first keyboard was created.
So he finally had tools with which he could control his invention, which he called a computer. Computer, in his native language, meant "trippy humming box". Unfortunately, the computer wouldn't do anything Gill Bates asked it to do. In fact it didn't do anything. But he was too tired to think of a way to fix it, so he went to sleep again.
The next day, he thought to himself:
"I should totally like, put a hamster and a spinning wheel in this "computer". That'd be killer."
And killer it was. Once the hamster started spinning on its little wheel, the computer started to do things.
Over the next several million years, Gill Bates' invention took the universe by storm. Soon, everyone had their own magic box with a spinning wheel in it, which was operated by some variety of animal.
FAST FORWARD ►►
...
PLAY ►
Present day. Computers still everywhere, still with various animals running on wheels.
Some people have hamsters in their computers. Some have dogs. Some have cats. There's a strange old man up the road who uses a fish somehow. The high end computers have cheetahs in them. The military-grade hyper computers of death have wheels that can spin by themselves.
MINE however, is very slow.
Fearing the kind of angry voodoo magic I may unleash if I actually open my computer, I'm not going to verify this theory. But I wouldn't be surprised if the animal inside my computer was...
A snail.
Which is dead,
encased in concrete,
and stuck in bullet time.
And to make things even harder for my snail to do its job, the wheel is probably square shaped, covered in anti-snail spikes, and drenched in superglue.
That gives you an idea of how mind bogglingly slow my magic box is. Between the time I hit the on switch and the time I log in, I receive an average of 3 birthday cakes, all with different numbers of candles on them.
In closing:
Dear computer,
SPEED THE FUCK UP!
Squirrel245
"What the fuck does WTF mean?"
I've come to the internet today to bitch about computers.
BUT FIRST... some history. Gather round the flames of this brown paper bag full of something that doesn't smell quite right... and prepare to learnify.
Many moons ago, before Earth had finally made up its mind about what kind of moon it actually wanted, there lived a man named Gill Bates. One day, Gill Bates was sitting on a rock, throwing stones at passing black bears when he thought to himself:
"I should totally make like, a magic box. That'd be killer."
And so, after finding an empty box and buying a magic wand, he Voodoo-priested the shit out of said box until it started to hum, whirr, and beep. Satisfied, he went to sleep.
The next day however, he thought to himself:
"I should totally like, plug a TV into this thing. That'd be killer."
And so, after raiding a shopping centre, he got a TV and plugged it into his magic box. His eyes lit up when he saw what a masterpiece this wonderful unity of magic and... television was. The colours! The changing of the colours! The reverting of the colours back to their original colours!
But then he noticed something. While the TV was working just fine, the magic box wouldn't do anything. Using his incredible mindbrain, a lid from a jar of jam which clicked when pressed, and several kilograms of marijuana, Gill Bates created the first ever computer mouse. Later that night he got drunk, invented the alphabet, then put each individual letter on a separate button and nailed the buttons to a plank of wood. Thus, the first keyboard was created.
So he finally had tools with which he could control his invention, which he called a computer. Computer, in his native language, meant "trippy humming box". Unfortunately, the computer wouldn't do anything Gill Bates asked it to do. In fact it didn't do anything. But he was too tired to think of a way to fix it, so he went to sleep again.
The next day, he thought to himself:
"I should totally like, put a hamster and a spinning wheel in this "computer". That'd be killer."
And killer it was. Once the hamster started spinning on its little wheel, the computer started to do things.
Over the next several million years, Gill Bates' invention took the universe by storm. Soon, everyone had their own magic box with a spinning wheel in it, which was operated by some variety of animal.
FAST FORWARD ►►
...
PLAY ►
Present day. Computers still everywhere, still with various animals running on wheels.
Some people have hamsters in their computers. Some have dogs. Some have cats. There's a strange old man up the road who uses a fish somehow. The high end computers have cheetahs in them. The military-grade hyper computers of death have wheels that can spin by themselves.
MINE however, is very slow.
Fearing the kind of angry voodoo magic I may unleash if I actually open my computer, I'm not going to verify this theory. But I wouldn't be surprised if the animal inside my computer was...
A snail.
Which is dead,
encased in concrete,
and stuck in bullet time.
And to make things even harder for my snail to do its job, the wheel is probably square shaped, covered in anti-snail spikes, and drenched in superglue.
That gives you an idea of how mind bogglingly slow my magic box is. Between the time I hit the on switch and the time I log in, I receive an average of 3 birthday cakes, all with different numbers of candles on them.
In closing:
Dear computer,
SPEED THE FUCK UP!
Squirrel245
"What the fuck does WTF mean?"
- Some fool on the internet
Monday, June 9, 2008
You feel a bucket of water being thrown on you and you wake up. You find yourself tied to a chair.
Oh good. You're awake.
I have some questions I want answered. Once you answer them I'll release you.
...Or feed you to Kibbles, my rabid pet rhino.
1. If you can point a remote control at a DVD player, press eject, and watch the disc come out, why can't you point them at people who are eating and watch them vomit?
2. Why can't I install a hydraulics system on my bed?
3. If two trains leave two stations, 43.2 kilometres away, one travelling 120kph, the other at 95kph... does anyone give a shit?
4. If someone successfully slams a revolving door, will you die from confusion?
5. WHERE'S MY MONEY?
6. Why can't I have a V12 engine in my electric toothbrush?
7. After the tortoise beat the hare, did he get laid?
8. Is it illegal to cover your car in dreadlocks?
9. Which animals took part in the orgy from which the platypus was created?
10. Why haven't you started answering me yet?
Just some things that have been on my mind for the last few minutes. If anyone knows the answer to any of these, feel free to enlighten my socks.
Squirrel245
"So let me get this straight. That woman over there was trying to get to her balls which were in the knees of a black child whose father is a dolphin."
I have some questions I want answered. Once you answer them I'll release you.
...Or feed you to Kibbles, my rabid pet rhino.
1. If you can point a remote control at a DVD player, press eject, and watch the disc come out, why can't you point them at people who are eating and watch them vomit?
2. Why can't I install a hydraulics system on my bed?
3. If two trains leave two stations, 43.2 kilometres away, one travelling 120kph, the other at 95kph... does anyone give a shit?
4. If someone successfully slams a revolving door, will you die from confusion?
5. WHERE'S MY MONEY?
6. Why can't I have a V12 engine in my electric toothbrush?
7. After the tortoise beat the hare, did he get laid?
8. Is it illegal to cover your car in dreadlocks?
9. Which animals took part in the orgy from which the platypus was created?
10. Why haven't you started answering me yet?
Just some things that have been on my mind for the last few minutes. If anyone knows the answer to any of these, feel free to enlighten my socks.
Squirrel245
"So let me get this straight. That woman over there was trying to get to her balls which were in the knees of a black child whose father is a dolphin."
- Police Officer on South Park
Monday, June 2, 2008
Bardus Extremus
Current mood: Superior
...
Core body temperature: 36°C
Health status: Normal
Pants: On
As you can probably tell from the calender machine on this blog, it's been a while since I've come to this part of the internet that I've been assigned to and shared my thoughts.
That's partly because it's been a while since I've thought.
Now ONWARD! DOWN TO BEESWANKS!
I'd like you to meet my newest employee:
Fredge is my new Fail Monitor. His job is to look at life, the universe, and everything, and if he finds something that fails, he'll give it his Seal of Afail:
...
Core body temperature: 36°C
Health status: Normal
Pants: On
As you can probably tell from the calender machine on this blog, it's been a while since I've come to this part of the internet that I've been assigned to and shared my thoughts.
That's partly because it's been a while since I've thought.
Now ONWARD! DOWN TO BEESWANKS!
I'd like you to meet my newest employee:
Fredge is my new Fail Monitor. His job is to look at life, the universe, and everything, and if he finds something that fails, he'll give it his Seal of Afail:
It's pretty simple. In fact it's beautifully simple. Dare I say it, it may even be super-mega-Keira-Knightley-sexy in its simplicity.
Here's some examples of how Fredge will do his job:
Example 1:
Person A: My cousin's boyfriend has a Skyline!
Person B: Oooo is that some kind of plane?
Here's some examples of how Fredge will do his job:
Example 1:
Person A: My cousin's boyfriend has a Skyline!
Person B: Oooo is that some kind of plane?
ATTENTION PERSON B!
Example 2:
Ditzy Bitch: Hi? I'm like, one of those people? Who can't actually say things? They can only ask things? Y'know?
Ditzy Bitch: Hi? I'm like, one of those people? Who can't actually say things? They can only ask things? Y'know?
ATTENTION DITZY BITCH!
Example 3:
TV: Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Big Brother!
TV: Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Big Brother!
ATTENTION TV VIEWER!
This won't be an easy job. There's a lot of fail out there that needs to be identified.
But if anyone's up to it, Fredge is. Or else I'll break his legs then cut his pay.
Squirrel245
"I don't think I'm very happy. I always fall asleep to the sound of my own screams. And then I always get woken up in the morning by the sound of my own screams... Do you think I'm unhappy?"
But if anyone's up to it, Fredge is. Or else I'll break his legs then cut his pay.
Squirrel245
"I don't think I'm very happy. I always fall asleep to the sound of my own screams. And then I always get woken up in the morning by the sound of my own screams... Do you think I'm unhappy?"
- Butters Stotch
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