Monday, September 24, 2007


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After a few minutes, his focus completely shifted to the cup full of peppermints placed at his table, and his effort to grasp one with his mind and hurl it into the gaping maw of Deborah, the much hated company controller. He imagined her feathered 1980's haircut standing on end in fright, as five grams of cellophane-wrapped-breath-freshening-death closed upon her. Despite the unlikelihood of the scenario, he knew if the universe granted him this power, it would be the most productive meeting the company had ever had.

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