“Something is utterly amiss,” said the angry light blue medical bouffant cap. The humanoid paid no mind, for it had none, and continued to illegally harvest organs from a recent plane crash. Someone began to hum, “She’ll Be Comin’ Round The Mountain.” It was not the cap.
Mr. Condor exhaled as he stood up. It was hotter than a raccoon in heat’s cooch, so he dabbed his sweaty brow with a tattered handkerchief; serves him right for buying it at Wal-Mart®. Never again. But that is another story to be told another time.
There was a slight slurp as his suit peeled away from the park bench. It is worth pointing out, there was not a trace of glamour in what had just transpired. He slid his thumb under his suspenders, tugged and grinned.
“Back in my day, it was never this hot.”
The Home Of DJ Sung Mo Koo 