someone's Biographicon profile." I widened my eyes and shrugged my shoulders, as people often do when they are innocent of things.
"What do you mean? What profile?" Jack closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. That's no way to treat the Jesus Christ of Boning.
"Don't do this, Dan, you know which profile he's talking about."
"It's sick, Dan, really, and it needs to stop. The Mabisms, the threatening letters you've been sending her, everything. Did you seriously get someone to record an anti-Hannah-Montana Heavy Metal song?" I remained silent on the matter, though, if I
had spoken up, I'd have pointed out that it's definitely a
progressive metal song. There's a difference. An
awesome difference.
"Look, Jack-a-Mole, I don't know anything about anyone's profile other than my own. Which, by the by, you still haven't written. Now, where was I? 'Daniel O'Brien, a
former costumed street-vigilante from Rhode Island has aspirations of either being President of America or sleeping with Danica McKellar. His likes include Chili's, his abs, and vagina, and his dislikes include cats, Michael Swaim, and nuclear war. As the Archbishop of Hip Hop-"
"Dan I'm gonna cut you off right there because, again, I'm not writing any of this down. Also I'm pretty sure you're violating your parole by being here. Before I have you escorted off the premises, I'm going to have to ask you to stay away from the Biographicon for a while. Also, stop calling Miley Cyrus from the Cracked Office Building and leaving disturbing messages. They can trace the calls, you know." Oh, so suddenly breathing heavily and hanging up is a 'disturbing message' now? What's this country coming to? I finished the rest of the pretzel log and started to leave. I know when I'm not wanted.
"I'll leave, Jackson Browne, but only because I
respect you." Also, because two police officers were carrying me out of what I thought was Jack's office but, upon second look, was apparently his bathroom. "But when I get back, we're gonna straighten out this bio of mine, right?"
"Please don't try to contact me again," his mouth said. "Of
course we are," his eyes said. "Of
course we are."
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