Long-Term Crust Storage
Larry likes to cut the crust off his sandwich and wrap it up for safekeeping in his lucky napkin. When he takes the crust home at the end of the day, he carefully transfers it from the napkin to long-term crust storage, which is a Tupperware container in the Crust Room.
Larry is up to Tupperware container #22.
Sometimes, when the fireworks in his head calm down to a mild sparkler or two, he likes to sit in the Crust Room and stare at each container for ten minutes each. 220 minutes later, when he emerges from the room, he is a new man, reinvigorated and re-energized. “Buy! Sell!” He calls out all kinds of orders to the termites in his walls when he’s like that.
Larry’s termites are a story for another day. I don’t know what kind of day is the best day to tell a story about termites, but I’m guessing it’s not going to be a weekend. No sir. Termite stories and weekends go together like lawnmowers and slices of ham. But it’s probably not getting too into the lives of his termites to reveal that they hardly ever obey Larry’s orders. They just nod and smile and pretend to be writing down what he says, and then they just go back to munching on his house’s frame when he turns his back.
Termites. You just can’t trust them.
Now fleas, there’s a little animal you can trust. I think it’s the fear. Fleas know that if they disobey, you’ll eat them with some lima beans and a bottle of ginseng tea. They live each day as if it were their last, but at the same time they never want to provoke an angry human into possibly eating them. They are the perfect subservient creatures: strong, smart, and sexy.
If you have trouble remembering “strong, smart, and sexy,” try using acronyms. SSS. Who can forget that? It’s like Nazi police, only with 33% more Naziism!
Oops, I’ve Godwinned myself. Sorry, must stop. It’s a shame, because I had so much more to tell you. I guess that’s what I get for typing without thinking. Once again, my deepest apologies to you all.