Starting Something

"Just what do you think you are doing under there?", your boss will ask you.


You will place the Sterno fluid, matches, and sunflower seeds (you crunch them when you are nervous) on the top of your desk as you crawl out and turn your big wide eyes toward him.



"Ooh. Now I've gone and started something", you will slowly answer, "I've done started something THISS time."



The smoke will be rising up now and your superior will shout about fire and usher everyone out the closest exit. Except you. You will sit with your head in your hands repeatedly whimpering about the thing you done started as the flames lick up the cheap veneer of your desk. As the last guard pauses to look back at you, yell- "I warned them, I warned them good. Don't play nice, and I WILL be starting something. Didn't I warn you all?"



Once everyone has left through the sally ports, turn the gas of the ovens that line the exterior of the room on full bast and blow the walls out. At this point you have exactly fifteen minuets before the fire fighters make it to your location. Strip down bare assed naked (the video monitors are now fogged over) and proceed to rub your butt on every phone receiver and computer mouse in the vicinity. Rub your ass on the camera's lens for good measure to throw the CSI in a loop ("Frank! Did you just see what I saw there? Was that an anus?"). Haul out the bones you got from the inside black market and arrange them realistically at your smoldering desk with some of your uniform. Resist the urge to cross the femur bones pirate style by the skull. This could possibly have taken you only ten minuets minus all the exaggerated hinney rubbing , but whatever. Grab the roster with the inmates identities on it and off the back loading dock you go. Two days later in Costa Ricca the locals will rub coconut oil into your singed skin while you burn through the drug proceeds of #237541, and wonder if anyone is using your phone.