Advertise here: Contact FM.
"Stay on the runner. I won't be long," Brenda commanded.(Please don't sue me, Mr Ellison. I'm basically one of your minions, after all. And I drove you and Susan aaaaall aaaaaround Kent State when you spoke there.)
"I've got to stay on the runner?"
"Sure. Just stand there. I'll be out in a minute."
. . .
...I stepped to the dge of the runner, crouched, and jumped as far out into the carpet as I could ... My footprints just magically appeared out there.
I hesitated only a moment, and then, scuffling my feet to produce impressions in the carpet, I began spelling out the classic Chaucerian PHUQUE. In letters four feet high. In virginal white carpet.
. . .
And I was just putting the . on the ! when I heard a strangled, "Aaaaarghhh!" behind me...
. . .
Then, in a moment, here she came, schlepping a carpet sweeper, not a vacuum cleaner, just one of your basic hand-pushed carpet sweepers, and she starts sweeping the nap back north by northwest!
posted by iconomy at 5:26 AM on August 25, 2004