Hellfire Club
FLG
FLG and his coworker walk into the Five Guys Burgers and Fries in Georgetown. They walk to the counter to order. FLG notices something odd.
FLG: That's George Stephanopoulos.
Coworker: No, it's not. He's a bum that looks...well...remarkably like George Stephanopoulos.
FLG: It's him.
Coworker: I'm not sold.
FLG: Trust me. While you were ordering I caught his eye. He recognized that I recognized that he recognized that I knew who he was.
Coworker: Maybe it's him. Should we say something?
FLG: Not me.
Coworker: Why not?
FLG: He's eating a burger and reading the Financial Times. If I were him I wouldn't want to be bothered.
Coworker: He really looks like a bum. Hair unkempt. Face unshaved. Ski jacket dirty. Converses ripped.
FLG: Wait. His Converses are ripped? You're kidding me.
Coworker: Nope.
FLG: Wow. You're right. Weird that he wears Cons. And they're so cheap. One would think with ABC money he could at least buy a new pair.
Suddenly Stephanopoulos' cellphone rings.
George Stephanopoulos: Hello.
Coworker: That voice. It's definitely him.
FLG: Told you.
Coworker: He's probably talking to Obama right now.
FLG: I don't think it works that way.
Coworker: Why not?
FLG: It just doesn't.
Coworker: He's getting up. Holy crap he's even shorter than he looks on TV. No wonder there's a high chair at the table. Oh, and look, he's leaving his trash on the table. What a jerk!
FLG: He left the newspaper. That's not trash.
Coworker: Newspapers may not be trash, but pink ones are.
FLG: Salmon.
Coworker: Come again?
FLG: The Financial Times is salmon colored.
Coworker: Sure looks like pink to me.
FLG: Yeah, but I have better eyes.
Coworker: Prove it.
FLG: I spotted Stephanopoulos.
FLG: That's George Stephanopoulos.
Coworker: No, it's not. He's a bum that looks...well...remarkably like George Stephanopoulos.
FLG: It's him.
Coworker: I'm not sold.
FLG: Trust me. While you were ordering I caught his eye. He recognized that I recognized that he recognized that I knew who he was.
Coworker: Maybe it's him. Should we say something?
FLG: Not me.
Coworker: Why not?
FLG: He's eating a burger and reading the Financial Times. If I were him I wouldn't want to be bothered.
Coworker: He really looks like a bum. Hair unkempt. Face unshaved. Ski jacket dirty. Converses ripped.
FLG: Wait. His Converses are ripped? You're kidding me.
Coworker: Nope.
FLG: Wow. You're right. Weird that he wears Cons. And they're so cheap. One would think with ABC money he could at least buy a new pair.
Suddenly Stephanopoulos' cellphone rings.
George Stephanopoulos: Hello.
Coworker: That voice. It's definitely him.
FLG: Told you.
Coworker: He's probably talking to Obama right now.
FLG: I don't think it works that way.
Coworker: Why not?
FLG: It just doesn't.
Coworker: He's getting up. Holy crap he's even shorter than he looks on TV. No wonder there's a high chair at the table. Oh, and look, he's leaving his trash on the table. What a jerk!
FLG: He left the newspaper. That's not trash.
Coworker: Newspapers may not be trash, but pink ones are.
FLG: Salmon.
Coworker: Come again?
FLG: The Financial Times is salmon colored.
Coworker: Sure looks like pink to me.
FLG: Yeah, but I have better eyes.
Coworker: Prove it.
FLG: I spotted Stephanopoulos.
.
One day I'll have to tell you my encounters with Ted Kennedy story...
Posted by: The Maximum Leader | February 03, 2009 at 03:59 PM
Maxy, write it up and I'll post it here...
Posted by: Mrs. Peperium | February 03, 2009 at 05:54 PM