Waaah!
Lookit it outside!
There be a white wall of white smoggy fog obfuscating the view of the Shitty Centre!
I was gonna go out for a wander and lunch, but knowing my luck I'll be forced to watch young ladies being stripped all nudie before having their skin ripped off by some bare-assed loon in chaps and and oversized Toblerone tube on his bonce whilst he waves his massive chopper about the place.
Either that, or some poisonous spiderthing with acidic webbing will slice me legs off, whilst some nightmarish multi-legged monstrocity with a plethora of pincers will cut me nuts off.
And even if I avoid all that, there's still the threat of cyclopean betentacled behemoth beasties barging about. How'm I supposed to drive home in this weather, if I'm going to end up colliding with a Titan's trotter blocking the road?
I have no wish to shoot everybody I love, only for the mist to lift and end up in trub with the army for being a homicidal saviour saving loved ones from being et by gargantuan transdimensional terrors.
or something.
Still, could be worse. Them foghorns could go off, and the pea souper could turn into a firey hell as the paint peels up the office walls whist I'm having a poo, and then I'd be trapped in barbed wire in the bogs, forever having a dump, just because some underage trollop became enamoured of me as she passed Starbucks and I ignored her. probably.
Anyhoo, it was dead clear this morning, and now it's gorn all mysteriously spooky outside.
I blame that Project Arrowhead that brought all out systems to a standstill. Curiously just before that mist rolled in. Wait a minute... I think I see something out the window... Just a vague shadow... coming clearer...
....AIEEEEE! It's definately a something! Oh, the horror! The terror! The madness inducing deformity of visage and....
...oh wait... it's just that Misshapen Dwarven Trollwoman coming back from lunch.
Phew.
...no wait, her head's split open, and a veritable array of pseudopodic tentacles are ripping out of it's face, dripping black ichor all over the floor as her chest bursts open like a huge mouth, only with teeth instead of ribs, and a spiralling mass of gnashing teeth and talons splaching slimy goo everywhere is hurtling at me face!
Quick! Where's that flameythrower?
I knew we shouldn't have hired them Swedish contractors ("They're Nørwegíån Mac!") in the hope of a horde of horny goat herdesses whoring it up in the office!"Right, can you code this routine to create the Agency Report"
"Oh noes! I has splilt melted Milka schokoladen all down mein flimsy Little Bo Peep dress"
"We need it done by the end of the week"
"Great VonTrapp! Now it's flowing down the plunging crevice of mein cleavage! I must puts down mein two big milk filled jugs and lick it off. Very slowly."etc, etc...
