(no subject)

Dec 17, 2007 17:52

[In the corner of the Mess Hall sits a man... a real man. If you listen carefully, you may be able to hear the muted strains of some sexy jazz music]

There is a time in every man's life when he must settle down, when the burden of living on the rugged road gets too much for his broad, manly shoulders to bear. Sometimes the road of life can lead a man to a predictable end, but sometimes... sometimes it leads him to a camp full of the undead and he's forced to make coffee for a bunch of hyperactive kids that cannot appreciate the fine aroma and comforting bitterness of his special blends--inexperienced in life, inexperienced in coffee; their poor virgin senses.

Ha...! But that's a boring story I'm sure you've all heard many times! But here we are, and it looks like I'm sticking around for a while. So hey there, kids. Care for a cup? ...Alternately, I'm available to prosecute. I've never lost a case! ...in camp.

It also to occurs to me that I may be in need of some assistance from a medical professional.
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