By: Dr. She

I was working a crappy retail hell job at one of our distinguished bookstore chains and had decided the night before I couldn’t take one more mind numbing shift dealing with knuckle dragging troglodytes asking me to find a book with ”the” in the title. So first thing the next morning I called in, before I had taken a sip of juice so my voice had that sicky, scratchy sound to it. ”Yeah..feeling really bad..*cough* uggghh my throat..” The manager was so concerned I half expected a fruit basket
to show up. So add that to the repetoir Ferris, right after bending over and licking your palms.

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