Yesterday our dear leader Doris made us listen to “Baby, Baby” under the threat of “harsh consequences” (probably exile to Canada, so none of us were taking chances). After being serenaded by the Georgian soft-rock songstress, I left the office and found a lady in a red dress sitting on the dumpster singing some shit about her father’s eyes.

After a quick “‘sup” and thinking security would take care of her, she started following me, floating above the pavement, and I was like, “Oh cool, a friend!” Doris doesn’t let us have any friends. But then she got in my car with me and starting belting her 1991 smash hit “That’s What Love Is For.” The novelty wore off fast and I just wanted to listen to White Reaper, and sensing my displeasure she disappeared in a poof of tasteful glitter.

Later in the evening I went on a jog to try to clear my head. I thought Amy was gone, but I turned a corner on the trail and there she was, in a white gown bathing in a mountain stream. She was singing “Better Than A Hallellujah” in that captivating croon that has won her an arc-load of GMA Dove Awards. Then she turned around and smiled, beckoning me to join her in the water. I couldn’t say no. As I waded into the stream, the water turned into a pool of stars, and Amy whispered “El-elyon na adonia” into my ear. It was bliss. Suddenly I was in a temple made of golden clouds, bowing before El Shaddai (literally a giant chicken … who woulda thought?). A dozen angels floated into the temple, laid their pillowy feathers on my shoulder, chanting “We are watching over you, every move you make … we are watching over you, every step you take.” I cried and thanked them and promised I would return to the Temple of Grant.

Then I heard a man’s voice. “What in tarnation?” he exclaimed, and I was back in the stream. A middle-aged couple was on the trail looking at me — now bowing naked in the water — with expressions of horror. “Amy … she was here … what’s happening?” I said.

“Dammit, I’m tellin’ ya, the crazies are taking over,” the man said. Then they left. I was alone, cold, and Amy was gone. Then I noticed I was holding a vinyl copy of Amy’s 2003 album Simple Things.

Now I’m back in the office. I’m not sure if I’ll see Amy again. Doris doesn’t let us have visitors. But don’t be shy if you see a woman in a red dress, sitting on a dumpster.

  • LeMonjello

    oh coolin, coolin, the stars are shining for you! and just like me I’m sure that they adore you!!

  • Blochead4real

    You should prolly see a doctor bout this.

    • Cooolin

      Don’t trust ’em.

    • Black Antlers

      I thought you said that was it with the comments (although I’m still taking it personally).

  • PANTSUIT

    The obvious question I have, being the new hire and all… we have security?

    • Cooolin

      Congrats, it’s YOU!

      • PANTSUIT

        Wow, I don’t know what to say… I guess I’ll get a firearm permit. All those Drunken Master movies will finally come into handy

        • Black Antlers

          You might want to watch ‘The 36th Chamber of Shaolin’ too, just so you can kick unholy dumpster bum ass. (Here endeth the Blocland security training course).

          • Cooolin

            *holy dumpster bum ass

  • Doris Montgomery

    Not everyone did this. Consequences are coming

    • Cooolin

      GOOD.