Ashleigh was at it again today. I’m sure that once you hear the details, many of you will be horrified and will seriously reconsider your misguided support for my arch-nemesis.
So, yesterday, Ashleigh mentioned that those chocolate peanut butter chip cookies she brought in were actually her second batch. The first attempt was so soft that the cookies ended up collapsing through the grill. Despite the disastrous results, she hadn’t tossed the tasty remnants – which led me to suggest she bring ’em in. No sense in letting them go to waste, after all.
She brought them in this morning. I sampled one delicious – albeit malformed – lump and found it to be as good as yesterday’s offering. Still, it was a mighty ugly selection and so, in a desire to spare her the inevitable social embarrassment that comes from serving misshapen cookies, I suggested she set them aside and allow me to attend to their disposal. Three hours later, we’re sitting it the writers’ room, when Ashleigh suddenly sits up and loudly announces: “Hey, Joe, aren’t you going to share those cookies I brought in?”
Under everyone’s accusatory glares, I was forced to scramble, proclaiming my innocence and insisting I would love nothing better than to share Ashleigh’s failed baking experiment with everyone. Honest. “You look them in the eye and say that!”Ashleigh challenged. So I did. And I was pretty damn convincing if I do say so myself, probably delivering my best performance since that one week portrayal of Marcellus, Officer of Denmark in my high school production of Hamlet.
Ashleigh trotted off to her office and returned seconds later with the cookie bits, setting them down on the table and causing an enormously disappointed Carl to stare down at them and wail: “I thought you said cookies! These aren’t cookies!”
Dear readers, you be the judge. Exhibit A –
I mean, come on! That isn’t a cookie. It’s Newfoundland!
Her failed attempt to throw me under the bus on this whole cookie-gate debacle is part of an alarming pattern of behavior. Earlier today, while we were chatting in her office, I unconsciously rubbed the serrated edge of my plastic knife against the plastic fork I was holding. Apparently, Ashleigh found the sound a tad unsettling. How do I know? Because she told me. More or less. What she actually said was: “Make that sound again and I’ll claw your eyes out!”. When I informed her that quote would be making the blog, she insisted I tell my readers the whole story – namely how deeply unpleasant she found the noise of a serrated plastic knife rubbing against the inner groove of a plastic fork. How unpleasant? Unpleasant enough to CLAW MY EYES OUT if I ever did it again!
Hey, good news! The early reviews of my first draft are in and I’m pleased to report I haven’t been asked to pack up my office (always a good sign). Received some great early input and look forward to sitting down to the official notes session tomorrow.
Today and tomorrow are flamethrower days, the term “flamethrower”, in this case, being code for “flamethrower”.
A few goodies from the Atlantis vault…
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