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Dead on the Job

December 4, 2008

“So you heard about that Wal-Mart worker who got trampled to death by customers rushing into the store for Holiday savings?” I say to Anonymous Doug.

“That I did,” says Anonymous Doug. “That’s an awful way to go.”

“Trampled by bargain-thirsty ham-beasts who had the time to wait outside all night just to get into a Wal-Mart at 5am?” I say.

“No, it’s awful that he was killed while at work,” says Anonymous Doug. “Having a job sucks bad enough, but spending your last breath on this planet while on the clock… that’s just wrong.”

“Is there a job that you would be all right dying at?” I ask.

Anonymous Doug thinks for a moment. “Whorehouse Reviewer.”

“Someone who reviews whorehouses so that people will know which brothels are best,” I say to clarify his point.

“I would not mind dying on the job if that was my job,” says Anonymous Doug.

“Does that job even exist?” I say.

“Someone’s gotta have it,” says Anonymous Doug. “I can’t be the only one who has thought of being the Zagat’s of the sex trade.”

“But they’d have to be written in breezy critic language,” I say. “Like ‘the crown jewel of the Corn Hole is the vast array of high quality fetish costumes that will satisfy even the most discerning of johns.’ Give it a try.”

“The autumn is the perfect time to visit Zhu Shang’s in Malaysia, for that’s when his crop of 11-year olds are at their peak,” says Anonymous Doug. “The crying is at a minimum and by the Fall they’ve learned how to properly dance arousingly for their American customers.”

“I’d be worried about giving street whores a bad review though,” I say. “They’d get their pimps on you.”

“And pimps aren’t known for killing people,” says Anonymous Doug. “They beat people up, maim them, scar them up, but killing isn’t what they primarily do. I’d rather get killed then get my fingers broken or my ear cut off.”

“And Avonia the Wiccan Pimp would probably just curse you with something wicked rather than hit you,” I say. “And Avonia’s curses are particularly nasty. She’d have you pissing out of your mouth.”

“Oooh, I don’t want that,” says Anonymous Doug. “Forget this job. I don’t want it anymore. I’d rather get killed working at Wal-Mart than be pissing out of my mouth.”

So what have we learned? Being killed while working at Wal-Mart is less objectionable than pissing out of your mouth.

dougsmallnote

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3 comments

  1. That was enlightening! Word…Getting trampled to death at the local Walmart is in the spirit of Black Friday! And yes, I would much rather than drink pee!!!


  2. What the fuck can Walmart be selling thats worth stampeding for…


  3. “The autumn is the perfect time to visit Zhu Shang’s in Malaysia, for that’s when his crop of 11-year olds are at their peak,” says Anonymous Doug. “The crying is at a minimum and by the Fall they’ve learned how to properly dance arousingly for their American customers.”

    you’re going to hell for writing this and I’m going to hell because I can’t stop laughing….



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