For the past forty eight hours (save for a four hour excursion to the North Shore of Long Island) Camillo Hexidor and I have been sorting and weighing slices of smoked salmon. This media overexposure rehab has been the hardest thing I have ever gone through. And now they're going to make me cure 200 lbs of sable. Well, I've had it. Enough is enough. I'm tunnelling out of here. Can I get three packages of lox and four of those baked salmon filets to go? I have a Four Square match to attend!
A ten minute shift break is coming at 9:01 AM and I only have time to 
make one phone call. I know who I need to call.
"Hello? Assemblyman Lentol's office"
"Hi, it's Aaron Short. Is Amy Cleary there?"
"No, she's not in yet."
"Okay, I'll try back later. Thanks." Click
Damnit! Okay. One more try.
"Hey... MFS?"
"This is about the four square game with Brad Lander we talked about earlier this week? Let’s play in Prospect Park near Celebrate Brooklyn. 9th Street and Park. There's a playground nearby."
"Help! I'm trapped in a fish factory in the Broadway Triangle and I can't get out. You gotta bust me outta here!"
"I told you I wouldn’t do this, Aaron. I’m not going to enable your foursquare addiction."
"Geez MFS, you’re just like Rami "Sheet" Metal. You’re the one who started all of this. You’re the one who has to end this."
"Aaron, I just really think you need help...."
"I know, I know I do."
"...And the way I’m going to help you is having you OD on four square, by putting you out of your misery."
"Let’s do this."
"All I wanted to do was have a reason to bring a playground ball to Williamsburg Walks, and you’ve ruined it. Thanks."
Click
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