Mike: My nachur perservz, let me show you them.
Greg: There’s a store over there called Tot Shot.
Me: Hm.
Greg: …
Me: …
Greg: …
Me: I’ve come up with several explanations for it, and none are appropriate.
Greg: Me, too.
Me: One involves a trebuchet.
Greg: Me, too!
Me: My other one is a tiny, kid-sized firing range.
Greg: Oh. My other one involves syringes.
Man: She got a medal for valor.
Woman: What kind?
Man: Bronze Star.
Woman: I thought valor was a Silver Star.
Man: Well, there's that, too.
Woman: So what's silver for? More valor?
Man: Pretty much.
Woman: So what kind of star did you get?
Man: Plastic.
LT: So it’s not black and white, it’s on a scale of brokenness? It’s not totally broken?
Me: No, it’s beyond just being broken. It’s extremely broken.
Lt: Oh. Well, then you should just put “Copier > Broken.”
Me: And if it doesn’t work, we’ll get bigger binder clips.
Bernie: Ask Gene. He’s got binder clips that’ll take your arm off.
Are you getting enough Sarah?