You’re the funny guy at the office. Life’s sometimes mundane, but you always know the right joke to crack. When Anne at the front desk shrank her favorite sweater in the laundry, you told her not to sweat it. Hilarious. Since you’re everyone’s go-to for fun, you opted to host the company picnic party… again. For years now, you’ve one-upped the t-shirt company across the road with your promise of only the best of times. You can’t wait to see the look on T-shirt Todd’s face when you head to the office with a big stack of board games cradled in your arms; one of them isn’t even a board game, it’s Twister.
The fateful day arrives and you’re ready. You close the car door, securing a display of saran-wrapped egg salad, two party packs of chips, and 15 assorted board games. After a quick stop at a balloon shop, you cram a giant bouquet into the back. The corner of the Twister box suddenly pops three balloons, and you groan, knowing the drive will surely pop two more. But if everyone pulls through, there will still be a feast and entertainment for an explosive three hours.
As you pull up to the office, you notice the T-shirt shop is closed; they must be too embarrassed to show their faces on party day. You’re glad T-shirt Todd isn’t around to see the spilled egg salad in the back of your car. The top layer is the only dirtied part, so you scoop it out and re-wrap the container. What people don’t know won’t hurt them.
You drop all your epic party contributions on the meeting table. Sally from two cubicles over brought a container of Publix cookies and a bowl of homemade salsa, but the rest looks suspiciously like what comes out of the vending machine downstairs. Sally’s the only one attending the party with you, bless her. After asking where everyone is, she nervously says that they’re at T-shirt Todd’s party.
Outraged, you storm across the street and knock furiously on the T-shirt shop door. You hear music playing around the back and can’t resist taking a quick peek — and you’re horrified. Standing before you is a towering inflatable, and your coworkers are jumping around with unprecedented energy. People are stuffing their faces at an impressive buffet, and Anne from the front desk is waiting for the entertainer to make her a new balloon sweater.
Your mouth is agape; your hands are still sticky with egg salad. T-shirt Todd pats you on the shoulder, attempting to look apologetic but not quite pulling it off — he’s understandably smug in his victory. You marvel at the luxurious chocolate fountain, laugh with your boss as he falls into the dunk tank, and cheer on your coworkers as they duke it out in the inflatable boxing ring. You sigh and accept your defeat; this was a hard party to beat.
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