A real life Rube Goldberg machine that complicates the easiest of tasks for the sake of inconvenience.
The words penetrated a stressful hour of silence, which felt like a fortnight. This is how time elapses in the penitentiary.
The Japanese cockroach is much better at math and science than the lazy American cockroach.
The truth was very simple. Audrey Gilbehart gave up. She was done. It was official. She no longer gave an iota of fuck.
The silence grew as suspicious eyes darted around the small waiting room, for there was another presence, and it was disgusting. Someone had callously expelled flatus through his or her anus. An educated guess was that the gas originated from either Mexican or Korean cuisine. No one dared speak because of the old adage, he who smelt it, dealt it. By this law, everyone was a suspect.
In the not so distant future, the kindest robot was about to change its/his name after uncovering a most terrible truth. Goodbye Adolf Hitler, hello Larry Alder.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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