Be fruitful and multi-die.

So I’m having one of those preliminary meetings with Hammer for my end of the year evaluations. This is certainly refreshing, considering her previous M.O. Do you know what else must be refreshing?

Tangerines.

Now I say this because Hammer was going to town on some—while talking to me. It was disgusting—all that smacking and chomping and pulp projectiles. How professional could this whole thing be?!

If you’re shocked that I didn’t zone out like I tend to do and imagine that I ripped the tangerine and defied physics by bludgeoning her with it—hold up. I didn’t daydream that, but I did go the route of imagining her chocking on her own masticated carnage, and I just sat there content as I watched the last citrus scented gurgle left her body.

Then, I went on to imagine this whole set of zany, Weekend at Bernie’s type scenarios that I would do with her corpse that would eventually lead me to catch some bad guys and snare the woman of my dreams.

I told you that I zoned out.