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Saturday, November 23, 2024 |
Short one: Bad Metaphor/Simile   
Date: Sent Monday, October 6, 2003
Category: None | Rating: 1.83/5 (127 votes)
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There was something funny about the kidnapping crime scene that Special Agent Frievald couldn't quite place, and the thought stuck with him throughout
the rest of the day, like those tiny little bits of the circumferent skin from the bologna slices on a foot-long Subway Cold Cut Trio that get stuck
in between the last two molars on the upper left, on the tongue side where you can't possibly reach them with a toothpick, your fingernails, or even a
systematically straightened paper clip, they just sit there and make everything you eat at your next meal taste vaguely like vinegar and mayonnaise,
and then somehow -- quietly but miraculously -- they disappear by themselves in the middle of the night while you're asleep, just like the visiting
Countess appeared to have done.
Received from JP's short funny file.
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