I work with the penguin.
No not a penguin—THE penguin. You know deadly umbrellas and murder? He isn’t murder (that I know of) but he does look like the penguin. He’s a little odd but who among us isn’t? I don’t hold that against him.
He tells me boring stories. That’s fine.
He’s been known to almost quack when confused or mad. Oh well.
He calls me jim no matter how many times I ask him not to. Ugh.
The worst thing he does is tell people jokes and stories. What?
I know what you are thinking. (And that is just dirty. You are a pervert.)
I’m a jokester how can I get mad at someone telling jokes and stories? It’s the way he does it. First: he tells the same stories over and OVER. All day long it’s the same stories. He has certain ones for each gallery and he uses them over and OVER. They never change. Secondly: These stories (that are purposely wrong) aren’t that funny. That is sort of subject so I’ll give another reason. He tricks people for the wrong reasons. Almost every person who comes into his gallery will get the same story—the wrong story.
I know you’re thinking: what about Patty Picasso jimi?
(Stop asking questions.)
What is the key to the ridiculously wrong stories? The people have deserved them. I avenge douchebaggery. It’s like I’m a super hero. I probably deserve a medal or at least a raise.
His stories and methods offend me.
I’m offended as a jokester.
I’m offended as a story teller.