Unscheduled Meeting

by pjmcbride

baby corn and spinach stir-fry

baby corn and spinach stir-fry (Photo credit: World to Table)

I hadn’t planned to post tonight. In fact, I should be balancing my checkbook right now. But you know how a parent will tell a child, “I’ll give you something to cry about!”? Well, someone has given me something to write about.

I had spent a quiet evening on county dispatch. I was left in peace, and was even able to forget about The Conspiracy for awhile. Third shift came in, and I chatted with various tolerable co-workers and friends I only see at work. I clocked out, observing, as always, a moment of silence for the 2 people the automated timekeeping system allowed the City to lay off. (And our timekeeping has been accurate and trouble-free since then, right? RIGHT?) I went to my locker to put away (or put up, as people in this part of the world say instead) my headset and the fuzzy vest I wear to protect myself from the ravages of my viciously air-conditioned workplace. I opened my locker door. And was attacked by baby corn.

You might not fully comprehend the enormity of that occurrence, so let me put it to you this way–I WAS ATTACKED BY BABY CORN! (Better?) And not just a single tiny ear–an army of baby corn, 3 squadrons, to be exact, in full metal jackets. They jumped on me when I opened the locker door. One, in its kamikaze haste, landed on my foot. What if I’d been wearing sandals? It could have broken my toe, and left me unable to walk to work.

I will have to confer with Foxy about this, although I hesitate to do so, as I know she’ll be horrified. And I may as well reveal the nature of Nick’s secret mission now. He is learning certain…skills, let us say. Techniques which will prove invaluable when he returns and the interrogations begin. I think we can narrow down our suspicions pretty quickly. Whoever smuggled these Trojan-horse tin cans in had access to the building. This leaves out officers and deputies, such as the King of the Hill (who I think is related to the Burger King and the Pizza King.) (Officers and deputies like to think we have to let them in, but they’re wrong.) And the infiltrating ears were not lurking in my locker when I started my shift, so I suspect third shift. And men cannot enter the women’s locker room, so that narrows it down a bit. And I have a Certain Person in mind, but let’s just keep everyone in suspense, shall we? For now, just know that I survived the assassination attempt, and no one will be moving up in seniority anytime soon. This meeting is now adjourned.

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