Otto continues to be unwell. (That’s the understatement of the year.)
He called in sick again.
As is always the case, an Otto-free zone means everyone’s getting a lot more work done. Plus, the weirdo quotient is lower.
This morning we needed to get a file from his filing cabinet. No one wanted to go near it. We all figured it was probably booby trapped – or possessed.
I drew the short straw…
I started in his top drawer. That was okay. A stapler, nine boxes of business cards and a flier from a sperm bank. Weird, but not the sort of thing that leaves you unhinged.
The middle drawer was stranger. Much stranger. A copy of my personal file, a kazoo, a pair of underpants, an I Love Lucy Pez dispenser, and a mini chainsaw.
It was in the bottom drawer that I hit the mother-lode of freakiness. I found the files, thankfully, but also…
A Wonder Woman action figure
A gas mask
A bunch of photocopies of someone’s ass (Otto’s, I’m guessing)
A plastic bag of chattering teeth
A carton of Yak Milk
A book about “American Elves”
A stuffed and mounted hamster
Pencil sketches of Clark
And what looked suspiciously like a human toe
I’m never going back in there again. Ever. I have to call our EAP now. Plus, I need a long shower and about five years of therapy.