Greg is truly miserable
by The Chaos Gremlin | Score: 4450
"You're useless! Useless!"
Greg stared in disbelief, clutching the tomato in his hand so hard it began to burst and drip down his fingers. His boss wasn't happy. Heck, HE wasn't happy - being fired, from the position of school crossing warden, wasn't any glamorous way to retire prematurely. Sure, he'd been drunk on the job ONCE. Certainly not a misdemeanor so large to validate his being sacked.
"Greg, get your shit. You're out of here man," Janice yelled again, gesticulating wildly. The toy plane she was holding, courtesy of the kindergarten students who had just crossed the road, didn't make her any less terrifying.
"But - please!" Greg exclaimed, trying his best to appear amiable, "I wasn't drunk for that long. I'm as sober as I was when I was born!"
"So... very sober? Babies fresh from the womb don't drink."
"Sure they do."
"What??"
"Winter is long and extremely cold, they mix vodka with breast milk to keep warm."
Janice just stared. " What the hell is wrong with you."
"I read about it!"
"Where."
"In an, uh, a novel."
"About...?"
"I don't know, world peace!?"
Greg was reaching for threads here. His parents, an art historian and a fisherman, didn't teach him critical thinking skills. In fact, he was a failure in their eyes, A fool, destined to fail in the cruel, wide world. Maybe that was why he drunk so much.
Greg stared in disbelief, clutching the tomato in his hand so hard it began to burst and drip down his fingers. His boss wasn't happy. Heck, HE wasn't happy - being fired, from the position of school crossing warden, wasn't any glamorous way to retire prematurely. Sure, he'd been drunk on the job ONCE. Certainly not a misdemeanor so large to validate his being sacked.
"Greg, get your shit. You're out of here man," Janice yelled again, gesticulating wildly. The toy plane she was holding, courtesy of the kindergarten students who had just crossed the road, didn't make her any less terrifying.
"But - please!" Greg exclaimed, trying his best to appear amiable, "I wasn't drunk for that long. I'm as sober as I was when I was born!"
"So... very sober? Babies fresh from the womb don't drink."
"Sure they do."
"What??"
"Winter is long and extremely cold, they mix vodka with breast milk to keep warm."
Janice just stared. " What the hell is wrong with you."
"I read about it!"
"Where."
"In an, uh, a novel."
"About...?"
"I don't know, world peace!?"
Greg was reaching for threads here. His parents, an art historian and a fisherman, didn't teach him critical thinking skills. In fact, he was a failure in their eyes, A fool, destined to fail in the cruel, wide world. Maybe that was why he drunk so much.