h a l f b a k e r yQuis custodiet the custard?
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The young man, dressed only in shorts, a wide, conical hat and calluses on his feet, is running through the busy city traffic, pulling a two-wheeled cart. He parks the rickshaw in front of a building, grabs a parcel and sprints up two flights of stairs. As he comes through the door towards the reception
desk, curious heads pop up from cubicles and a helmeted, delivery boy backs away in awe and respect. The coolie bows deeply and presents the golden-brown, sweet-smelling packet to the receptionist. With some effort, she breaks open the 8 1/2 X 11 fortune cookie revealing a message, "Sweet words will brighten your day," and beneath it, a love letter to Lucille in accounting.
Other deliveries that day were a summons, "Bad luck will befall you in District Court," a folded pizza, "A stranger will satiate you with salami," and a heavy, six foot cookie that enclosed a stripping samurai, "Beware long, unsheathed weapons of nude warriors."
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Them chips ain't chocolate |
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Ok, a cookie just for number 3. |
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Tax refund: "Your uncle replies 'You are too generous'."
Package from Ted Kaczynski: "Your day will end with a bang."
Draft notice: "You will soon be in the best shape of your life."
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Okay, okay, I fixed it (not something I usually do). Viola. |
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*Looking around for the instrument.* Eh? Where? |
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You will soon be up to your eyeballs in dough... (pastries come tumbling) |
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Yes good writing. How'd he get that conical hat on his
feet though? Sorry. |
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Two fortune cookies I received consecutively: |
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"Failure is the mother of success." |
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How about "You will either be as snug as a bug in a rug or as smug as a thug on a drug"?? |
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