Occasionally, whilst wandering in the central labyrinth of our federal office building, one comes across a badly injured comrade who will never make it back out alive. Their injuries are generally due to (1) attacks by the marauding gangs of larger, surlier bureaucrats who have grown feral over the years or (2) old age. It is customary to deliver the coup de grace to a grievously injured fellow fed, either by offering them one of the cyanide capsules that are handed out like candy here or by luger shot. We hate to do this, which is one reason why we try to avoid the central labyrinth as much as possible. If it can't be avoided, we carry breadcrumbs and a pike. And a sandwich or two, to distract the feral bureaucrats. Tossing a sandwich over their heads and then running in the opposite direction has saved many a life. They especially like tuna salad.
they have only one head?
Posted by: William Thirteen | February 26, 2007 at 05:41 PM
Thank you, Frau Wilhelm, class grammarian. We will remedy that oversight mach schnell.
Posted by: mike | February 27, 2007 at 08:42 AM