Posts Tagged 'comedy'



The Meeting: Blood Transfusions

My name tag said “Darnell Thomas” and I didn’t mind.

This is unusual.

Usually, this professor likes his name best.

But there was some sort of ring to Darnell Thomas. (Could also stand for Defensive Tackle.)

FOXBORO, MA - NOVEMBER 14: Defensive tackle Vince Wilfork #75 of the New England Patriots watches the game against the Buffalo Bills at Gillette Stadium on November 14, 2004 in Foxboro, Massachusetts. The Patriots defeated the Bills 29-6. (Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images)

Mr. Vince W. DT.

Anyways and some, I had snuck into some sort of conference and I was going to make the most of it.

I found a seat and sat, quicker than melting lava.

And what luck: as soon as I had sat, the meeting began.

An old woman–with flaming green hair–she must dye it, see–stood behind the podium, and started having speaks.

“Welcome everyone,” she said.

She spoke softly, but there was a scary tone in her voice.

In other words, if this professor was down an alleyway, and she was there, I’d run.

images

“First order of business,” she continued, “is this: We shall find out what blood type you are, then we will effectively start the transfusions.”

She stepped down from the podium, and this professor broke out into a sweat.

Transfusions? That was ghastly, scary, and horrid.

And at that minute, the real Darnell Thomas came in. He was carrying a Chihuahua.

(Okay, time out for a minute. ‘Chihuahua’ is not worth the trouble it takes to spell it. Dadblameit!)

Now, I knew it was Darnell Thomas because he was being chased by security. As soon as he came running in, I jumped up.

The Chihuahua bounded out of his arms and jumped on me, ripping at me with his sharp teeth.

AngryDog

I yelled “enough!” twice, but he didn’t seem to mind. Then I found out ‘he’ was a ‘she’ and it was even worse.

Darnell Thomas–the real one–was coming for me, but the security got him, and the dog, and dragged them out.

Probably to jail.

“Sorry for that, Mr. Thomas,” said the green-haired woman, who was, the sudden, standing next to me. “Will you give your announcement now?”

So I strode up to the podium, and said:

“I don’t think we should do anymore blood transfusions. Look what happened to the Incas.”

And I left.

[NOTE: It turns out, my line of reasoning with regards to the Incas and blood transfusions is quite flawed. See, the Incas actually had great success performing blood transfusions, way before blood types were even studied. This is because the Inca population had only two different blood types: A and O. Therefore, they did rather well at the practice. Of course, I’m sure the green-haired lady, or anyone else at the meeting, didn’t catch my mistake.]

At the Bakery

So, I like cookies a bit.

You know?

Especially cherry cookies.

Wait. I lie.

I’ve never had a cherry cookie, have you?

Exactly right! They don’t exist. Or, at least, they seem not to.

Professor’s Newest Theory: Cherry Cookies do not exist.

So, I tested the theory and went into a local bakery.

sweet-tooth-fairy-bakery-5

Now, I must say the bakery was rather full. And packed. And busy. It was rather full, see.

“Excuse me!” I shouted over the din.

No answer for a little bits.

“Excuse me a few times!”

You’d be surprised, but that worked. The people in front of me turned around, and I got to the front.

A fat woman was at the register.

“What would you like?” she asked, grabbing that little plastic paper thingy they have to use to grab cookies with.

“I’d like–” I began, but she cut me off.

“A lemon custard cookie? Sure thing.”

And faster than a rabbit on drugs, faster than Muhammed on the back of an ass, faster than Brock Lesnar…

4281218-6083399682-Brock

Brock Lesnar

…faster than ever, she grabbed a lemon custard cookie and handed it to me.

“Very nice,” I said, pushing her hand and the cookie aside, “but I wasn’t looking for that.”

Her face fell. “What? What do you want, then?”

“I’ll take…” I’d quite forgotten what I came in for, the sudden.

“Hey, buddy,” a voice said behind me. “Hurry up, I want a cookie.”

I did the only decent thing one can do in such a situation: I took the lemon custard cookie from the woman and gave it to him.

“Now, see here,” I said to the lady, “do you have cherry cookies?”

And she gave me one.

I was astounded.

PF, cherry cookies exist.

Let’s have a dance to celebrate.


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