It’s been unusually quiet around here… too quiet.

Biff’s back in the mail room, claiming to have given up politics for good. “Really really unfair,” he says mournfully to water cooler passers by, “I can’t be expected to give consistent answers to straightforward questions day after day; it’s not in my nature. Terrible!”

True enough. Last week we asked Biff the whereabouts of a large shipment we were expecting. “I’ve been told by some of my associates, great people by the way, that the order you are referring to was already delivered, but that if it hadn’t been, I would have delivered it myself and made FedEx pay for it. Tremendous.”

“What’s tremendous?”

“The job I’m doing delivering these shipments. Nice.”

“But, you didn’t deliver the shipment. That’s why we’re talking to you right now.”

“Which shipment? Huge.”

“The big one that was supposed to come in last week? Where is it?”

“Big? Like huge?”

“Well… I guess.”

“How huge?”

“I don’t like where this conversation is going.”


This isn’t funny any more.

The Interns

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