Friday, July 25, 2014

the Daily Debacle

Routine Institute Inspection Goes Horribly Wrong…: Early the morning of the day precipitating another day that has naught to do with anything at hand, but we just thought we’d mentioned it, a convoy of Prison inspectors visited the Alpine Reforming Institute for the Dangerously Pointy--A.R.I.D.P. for short, ARID for shorter, and good old A for shortest--thinking it just a generic inspection, but soon to be proven very wrong.
            Primarily routine, an inspection comes by the Institute annually to make sure of ideal prison conditions, due to the high danger ratings of all those ensconced within the rocky, icy, mildly moldy walls.
            Passing through the wall guard easily, leaping over the piranha infested moat and stepping tentatively over the mine field surrounding the first picket line encircling the main building, the inspectors checked off security readiness with slightly sweating hands.
            Inside the main cell block, they visited each prisoner briefly, checked manacle tightness and wall hardness, and continued on.
            The trouble began with inmate #222, Eddie Clippermitts. While inspecting his cell, the inspectors were conned by the smooth talking scissor man into letting him polish their keys while they checked out how sturdy his lockable bathroom was.
            Having trapped the inspectors, Clippermitts vacated his cell and set about freeing his cellmates. After he past 17 in freed comrades, he became slightly bored and ran screaming for ketchup out into the heavily guarded compound.
            Making short work of the patrolling soldiers by clipping their hairstyles into 1960 classics. While the men-at-arms ran screaming around the compound, somersaulting over the mine field and diving into the moat, Clippermitts and his inmate buddies poll vaulted over the mines and leaped through the gates out into the cold mountains.
            Since then the escapees have been sited spelunking into mountain grottoes for diamonds, fending off police Sherpa’s, and buying vast amounts of heating pads from local mass producers.
            We suppose a lesson should be learned hear, invest in 60s hairstylists, their going fast. And quick! Buy stocks in fishing hooks and those small purple Furbies!
            Farewell for now, until we find something new to miscommunicate illustrate,
Written by Thiz Guy S. Massivh
Complimentary Columnist
We all know of the Weekend Disaster Posts, and the newer, esteemed Sunday Fiasco publications. However, these posts serve only to ruin your weekends, and we think it only honorable and spiritually true to endeavor to ruin your week days to boot.
You may in time question the authenticity of the name Daily Debacle, as the vast majority of interesting incidents in the mythical spectrum are hushed up be benign and unnamed forces called the I.R.S., we will most likely only post around one or two a week, possibly meriting the change of the title to Morning Debacle, or In a Day or Two Debacle.

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