The Picture People Story

*Editor's Note*

This entertaining bit of nonsense was originally posted in July, 2006, hot on the heels of the, "Starbucks ...The Saga Ends" post. I wanted to vent my frustration about them pressing the issue, and since I couldn't write about Starbucks I did (in my mind) the next best thing... I wrote about my second job. This was what came about.
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Prelude to Story:

I warn all who reads this now, the story below is not for the faint of heart, the weak of stomach, or the people who like plush toys a lot. So, ya... consider yourself warned. But if you don't have a problem with any of those things I mentioned you're probably good to go. So... proceed.

Disclaimer:

In light of recent events... just to let everyone know, (so there is no miscommunication) The following story is completely made up. In other words it's not true, it's a lie, a falsity, farce, phony, fabricated, and any other words you can think that mean that type of thing. In other other words please do not come after me with a stick and beat me up for mentioning what I mention, ok?... ok. So as you read this I ask you, no... I urge you to remember... The story you about to read about is fake, that means not real... alright, if you've got that you're good to go...

The Story:

I have been working for the Picture People for well over a year now, and I've found that pretty much everyone who works there likes their job (i.e. taking pictures, bosses, etc...). But when it comes to the company it self... well... it sucks. We get no raises, no time and a half on holidays, no respect from our high, high ups, etc, etc... So my co-workers and I have derived a plan to stop this insanity, and show the head honchos of this company that the little people of this company are more then just... well, little people. The plan we derived consists mostly of duct tape and Corn Pops, as not to damage the structural integrity of the building...

We would show up early in the morning and do stuff... really "witty" stuff. Like putting the props in vicarious positions, maybe tape a plush toy to the wall and stick a ransom note up its nose (if you can do that), and instead of all the tills having a receipt on them stating how much money is inside (like they usually do), they'd have a piece of parchment placed on them saying, "gone"...of course when the head honchos walked in to the store we'd blame it on a poo flinging monkey. And the head honchos would believe us too, because deep inside we all believe that monkeys really do fling poo... Immediately the head honchos would put a surveillance on all stores that sold bananas, (that's bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S) so that if there were a spike in banana sales they would know where to catch their hairy little thief. But of course they'd get there and it would be some washed up soap-opera star that we decided to pin it on, and all we'd have to do is give him a $20 bill and tell him to go buy as many bananas as he could with it, because we all know that if we saw a washed up soap-opera star buying $20 worth the bananas we'd be a bit suspicious... but that's a story for a different time. I mean if you want to be real honest we'd probably eventually get caught. And you know that the head honchos would pull one of those, "We knew it was you guys the whole time, but we just wanted to see if you guys were going to let a poor innocent poo flinging monkey take the rap for you" In which we'd rip off one of the pieces of parchment (just for the crap of it), and run away with the washed up soap-opera star, because he has $20 worth the bananas and we know we're going to need to eat something. And of course as we're eating them we could sing, "This crap's bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S"... because that's what this story's really about.