Über

Hans

I'm gonna make an educated guess what happened here. My two clients, Frick and Frack, the mop heads, were in a simple traffic accident. A minor fender bender, but maybe they were on the wrong side of the street or didn't look both ways. It could happen to anyone. My clients, exhibiting extremely poor judgement, followed your grandmother to this delightful, well-tended home. Now, at this juncture I'm deducing that they said or did something that crossed a line. And you, with some justification, put them in their place. Based on the salsa stain there, it could have gone a couple ways. Bottom line, not to be morbid, but if they're dead, I'm guessing that I'm… I'm gonna go with glass half full here and say they're not. My point is, if they're still alive, why kill us, because of a misunderstanding? Our own stupidity? Why mess up your lovely Abuelita's place? Why jump to the nuclear option? I'm saying keep it simple. I will collect my moronic clients, and poof! We are gone. Neither you nor your lovely Abuelita will lay eyes on us ever again. Guaranteed. Signed sealed and delivered. Assuming, you know, that they're still breathing.

Stories byHans

diamonde rene roseburg
DiaMonde Claudia Stuart