I’ve got to tell you, I didn’t feel like saying that this morning.
A number of days ago there was some accident or something where a family of 14 had their mega van go into a river. The Matriarch was the only survivor and her “special request” came across my desk.
I mean, this kind of bullshit is more suited to a Monday, don’t you think?
Don’t get me wrong, I worked to make her clichéd little plan a reality, but sometimes I wonder if people even stop to consider what kind of a hassle it is to manage a mulit-plot layout of this size and complexity on such short notice? Canada is a big country, yes; but cemeteries have a finite amount of space, and we can’t just section off an eight of acre because some selfish bitch wants to “mastermind” a little arts and crafts project! There is zoning to consider, erosion, the cost of maintenance, damage from wildlife and punks on Halloween night, the natural ebb and flow of the topography, which, over time, can lead to possible—
—man, I’m really sorry guys. It’s Friday, and here I am taking the stresses of the job home with me. For what?!
Besides, I almost totally forgot that after I killed it on that little project, something quite amazing happened. A wolf appeared at my desk!
No, that’s not the amazing part. Hemlock, my boss, has been known to shape-shift.
It sounds ominous, I know…but when he starts taking other forms, it usually means he’s in a good mood, if that makes any sense. He had a piece of paper in his mouth. I took it and had a look.
“Good work! Go draw!”
Awww yeeeeeahhhhh! So I grabbed my whiteboard and as just as I turned around to thank Hemlock? You guessed it. Gone. Just like when Commissioner Gordon checks his watch when he’s chatting with Batman on the rooftop or something.
First I drew Rick:
Yeah, he was a little pissed.
Then I drew Robertson.
Robertson has a pretty good sense of humour though, so I can get away with more:
Oh, here’s an amusing story about Robertson: he wears a lot of plaid shirts, this guy, and about two months ago I saw him wearing a very distinctive cap. I couldn’t quite place it at first, but then I realized who he reminded me of: Ed Gein! Naturally though, I realized right away that someone might take offense if I compared them to a notorious serial killer. But mentioned it anyhow.
I’ll spare you the dialog because he didn’t know who the hell Ed Gein was. You know, the homegrown midwestern lunatic? Inspiration for PSYCHO? I gave him the bullet points there and then.
“Oh, okay!” he said to me. “I know that movie! Well…if I’m this Ed Gein guy, you’re Ted Bundy!”
Now, I realize this post has been “a little Patrick Bateman” already, but…I kind of interpreted that as a compliment! I mean, if someone were to compare you to a reputed madman, wouldn’t you prefer to be likened to a well-educated, good looking, capable fellow who outfoxed the authorities for years and years? (He allegedly did some “bad stuff” too, but…I don’t much about the guy, to be quite honest with you.)
What do you mean “that’s weird”?
This is weird:
Allison here? She lost over 150 pounds in the past year or two and asked me to draw her. So I ever-so-subtly implied that she had yet to reach her goal. Heh heh. I hope I didn’t mess with her fragile psyche by doing this.
I was a little concerned I had when I showed her.
“Loooook-ee who it is!” I said, smiling proud.
Now, although they looked like tears of joy to me, it’s hard to “read tears,” you know?
So scrambled to make it all better: