Sorority brothers are staying at the hotel this weekend. They are all young charming, well tempered children. A little puke here, a little blood there, no problem.
They get drunk and leave their clothes strewn about the lawns of the hotel.
I call Mr. Joseph Brooks this morning to let him know that I have his pants, tie, and a shoe. Inside the pockets of Mr. Brooks pants are the following items:
No gratitude was expressed. And so I take the opportunity to rub my hands together and get mischevious.
I thought long and hard about what I could leave in his pockets to give him the heebeejeebees. I didn’t have a switch blade, or a gerbil, or a cock roach, or a syringe.
I did have a People Magazine. I cut out a picture of Betty White. I inserted picture into clear part of wallet that houses the identification card.
The response I desire?