The Misfit Story Hour

I've mentioned it before, but I'll say it again . . . we love our misfits, but they sure do attract drama.

I have two stories for you today, both involving misfits and oddly aggressive people touching (and in one case,kicking) our company vans.

**Warning, these are not G-rated stories**

Story 1: "Bring It On"

The following is a paraphrased transcript of what transpired between a misfit (we'll call him Freddie) and the resident at an apartment complex where we do work (we'll call him Trashpo).

It was a beautiful Monday afternoon and Freddie was calmly cleaning an air conditioning vent when he noticed his machine cleaning machine stopped. He went outside and saw a man running from the company van to an apartment.

Freddie: Hey -- are you touching my s**t? (granted, probably not the warmest opening line) Trashpo: I turned that s**t down - it's too loud.
Freddie: Well, stop touching my s**t.

Trashpo went into his apartment and Freddie returned to work. About five minutes later, Freddie's machine was turned off again.

Freddie: Hey man - stop touching my s**t.
Trashpo: It's too f***ing loud, people are trying to sleep.
Freddie: It's noon - stop touching my s**t.
Trashpo: Do we have a problem here?
Freddie: Yeah, we have a problem here - stop touching my s**t.
Trashpo: Well, I'm a cage fighter - bring it on.
Freddie: Well, I'm a motherf***er - bring it on.

Thankfully, this pleasant exchange ended without any physical contact.

Story 2: Kick a Van

Our misfit (we'll call him Charlie) was taking a small short cut, driving very slowly, through a construction area (probably incorrectly) when a man (we'll call him Hickmo) jumped out and kicked our company van. Charlie stopped the van and the following is a paraphrased transcript of the conversation that followed between Charlie and Hickmo.

Charlie: Why are you kicking my van?
Hickmo: You can't drive through you van through here. Hickmo kicks the van again.
Charlie: If you kick my van again I'm going to call the police.

Charlie drives off and Hickmo calls the police. The police find Charlie and pull him over and asked him his side of the story. (Meanwhile our office gets a call from the police dispatcher saying that our van has hit something, but there is no damage to the vehicle - they obviously didn't have the story yet).

Police: OK, Charlie don't drive through a construction zone and Hickmo don't kick people's vehicles.

The end.

You like?

Now here's a picture of Graby (who slept last night from 6:45 - 6:15 straight, no peeps) and Molly - I call it "Bring it on (the puppy kisses)".