"Dodda!"
"I'm not getting you coffee, a bagel, a muffin, or ice cream!"
"Cob hew!"
"What?"
"Fuw God'th thade, ged in hew!"
"What is your problem?" Donna asked me as she finally came into my office.
"I need sob bedithine."
"For?"
"By thinuthes!"
"Are you sick?"
"Dit by thinuthes!"
"What kind of medicine do you need?" I glared at her. She was obviously enjoying this.
"Thinuth duff!"
"Get it yourself." I glared at her some more. This was definitely NOT funny.
"Dodda!"
"I'm enjoying this." She didn't have to tell me that.
"Dodda!"
"I'm just going to stand here and chuckle at you."
"You're fiewd."
"What? I couldn't understand you." How dare she...
"YOU'RE FIEWD!"
Donna burst out laughing.
"Dodda! Dith ithn'd fuddy!"
"What's the matter with you?" I looked up and saw Sam standing in the door. There is a God...
"I'b stubbed up."
"What?"
"By thinuthes!"
"Do you need something?"
"YETH! BEDITHINE! WHAD DO YOU THINK?"
"I'll be right back."
"You're bead, Dodda. Bewy bead."
She had the nerve to laugh even harder at me. She walked out. How dare she?
Sure enough, just as she left, here comes Sam, pills, water, and tissues.
"Thadck you, Thab."
"It's fine. The same thing happened to me last week. Even Ginger just stood there, laughing. Think we deserve it?"
"Pwobabwy."
"You sound like shit."
"I hadn'd nodithed."
"You better get better soon."
"Yeth, Thab, thid buchd I weawize."
"I need to get back to work."
"Thab, bled you're heawd."
"It's okay."
"Doe, weawy, Thab, bled you. Bled you're liddle bedithine-beawig heawd."
END
"I'm not getting you coffee, a bagel, a muffin, or ice cream!"
"Cob hew!"
"What?"
"Fuw God'th thade, ged in hew!"
"What is your problem?" Donna asked me as she finally came into my office.
"I need sob bedithine."
"For?"
"By thinuthes!"
"Are you sick?"
"Dit by thinuthes!"
"What kind of medicine do you need?" I glared at her. She was obviously enjoying this.
"Thinuth duff!"
"Get it yourself." I glared at her some more. This was definitely NOT funny.
"Dodda!"
"I'm enjoying this." She didn't have to tell me that.
"Dodda!"
"I'm just going to stand here and chuckle at you."
"You're fiewd."
"What? I couldn't understand you." How dare she...
"YOU'RE FIEWD!"
Donna burst out laughing.
"Dodda! Dith ithn'd fuddy!"
"What's the matter with you?" I looked up and saw Sam standing in the door. There is a God...
"I'b stubbed up."
"What?"
"By thinuthes!"
"Do you need something?"
"YETH! BEDITHINE! WHAD DO YOU THINK?"
"I'll be right back."
"You're bead, Dodda. Bewy bead."
She had the nerve to laugh even harder at me. She walked out. How dare she?
Sure enough, just as she left, here comes Sam, pills, water, and tissues.
"Thadck you, Thab."
"It's fine. The same thing happened to me last week. Even Ginger just stood there, laughing. Think we deserve it?"
"Pwobabwy."
"You sound like shit."
"I hadn'd nodithed."
"You better get better soon."
"Yeth, Thab, thid buchd I weawize."
"I need to get back to work."
"Thab, bled you're heawd."
"It's okay."
"Doe, weawy, Thab, bled you. Bled you're liddle bedithine-beawig heawd."
END