Oh. My. God. I am totally going to kill Sam and Max. Reader, if you aren't Margie, you don't need to go crazy getting this post to her, but I need to vent.
So they sent me out to get stuff for entertainment. "Fun stuff," they said. So I'm thinking balls, jump ropes, Frisbees. Maybe a Mad Libs. You know: stuff that encourages physical fitness and mental acuity. Not to mention stuff that won't drain our resources. But noooooo. It turned into GeekQuest1: the first post-apocalyptic NerdFest. Oh my god. Role playing crap, video games... thank God the zombies showed up, or else they would have had me collecting - and I'm not even kidding here - costumes.
Okay, I know... it just might be that I am the nerd in this scenario. Apparently, nerdliness, like sanity, is a matter of statistics. And I am clearly outnumbered here at Abel. But really? Asking me to risk becoming Snack of the Undead for role playing stuff? Do they really not see the irony of asking me to outrun zombies so they can have a game that allows them sit on their posteriors and to pretend to outrun zombies? This just sucks. There was this cool macrame owl kit that I didn't get a chance to grab... I think I've said too much.
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