Category: Straitjacket: V-17X

We clearly didn’t get enough sleep, and now I can’t even focus for more than four seconds without staring off into space like some kind of nutjob. It’s impossible to plan to feel this way, but we could certainly have predicted it based upon our nightly behavior.

At these times, it’s important to remember that stomach lining can be replaced, and your muscles don’t always feel this tight. Nobody’s looking at you funny, so stop squenching up your face like you’re staring at the sun before you give me a heart attack.

I’m prone to sudden spasms, you know that.

We could catch and sell crabs at a seaside concession stand,
but that just doesn’t seem like a sustainable business model.

I think it was my fault for pushing you too hard.
We can’t all be entrepreneurs, and I should have recognized that.

Sales just isn’t the profession for some people,
no matter what you’re trying to get across to the customer.

Even if you had a self-wetting sponge with an everlasting,
constantly-regenerating supply of soap and scrubbing pad
made specifically to hold up for fifty years of wear (and could sell
this product at one dollar per unit and still turn a profit),
I doubt you could make someone want it.

It’s not your fault, I just pushed you too far.
Let’s go back to the drawing board, Gene.

Nothing says “this stinks” like a loaf of cheese bread wedged between the fridge and the wall for no less than 45 minutes, especially if you’re holding it above a hungry mouse’s mouth while it gnaws on its own foot for sustenance.

Not only will the stench overpower you, but the tiny mammal’s startled yip will get the attention of neighboring creatures, all shapes and sizes. Believe it or not, the average American household contains more distinct species than the average American zoo. Of course, you can’t see 99.7% of them at any given time [unless you have a properly-calibrated microscope lying around].

That dreaded stairway of mine… I don’t quite understand why folks are afraid to come up to my door, even in broad daylight. I suppose the spikes and schnauzers at the bottom can be a little intimidating if you’re not in the mood for obstacles, but it’s smooth sailing the rest of the way up–at least until you come across the live gargoyles.

But come on, nobody [who didn’t deserve it] has ever been attacked by these peaceful creatures. They prefer to leave well enough alone and read a good book most of the time. They’re not going to go out of their way to cause mischief, that’s what imps are for.

And you don’t have to worry about running into imps unless I invite you inside, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I only invite people with strong purple auras to join me inside my dwelling. I have, in the past, made exceptions for blue auras, since they still contain the rudimentary elements I prize highly in individuals.

Seven grimy little speculatives prindle across my gallery floor, after I specifically told them to wipe their feet upon engaging in heavy humiliation for the sake of their beloved ancestors. I’m a liberal sort of person, but only so many things can run across my field of vision before my temples begin thumping and causing me a severe headache. The blurry vision and stammering retinas are not good for my prolonged curatory career, and I poured my heart into this endeavor. It’s a real shame when speculatives can’t obey my commands or even accommodate a quick gesture, and it has become clear to me that I must plow forward in this project by myself, leaving behind those little goobers for a sweeter reward. It’s on the horizon, blurry (due to my migraine or near-sightedness, I’m not sure) and promising colors galore, subdivided into hues unimaginable to folks behind me. I’ll get there first and gloat for seven seconds as my competitors reach my apex, only to find that I’ve laid a booby trap for them. As they tumble into this pit of despair (and crocodiles), I’ll be watching their descent and waving, hoping they’ll have the wherewithal to look up and regret their lemming impersonations.