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dyeknom

dyeknom

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Contest: How I /quit My Job

Contest can be found on their actual website, links provided. The contest will run until next Friday, February 4th at 4:00 PM EST. At that time I will use Random.org to pick a winner, so don’t worry if you don’t come up with a masterpiece response!

The winner will receive $20 worth of credit for their choice of platform: 1600 Microsoft Points for Xbox 360, $20 on Playstation Network, 2000 points for Nintendo (usable on Wii or DSi), or even $20 worth of games gifted on Steam for PC or Mac.

http://gameinterface.net/?p=20160
 
Oh yeah, sorry OP, I entered. I was intent on writing something good and forgot to throw in an "entered" comment. Great contest!

Here's mine, by the way:

This route is torturous, he thinks as he rides through another swarm of bees and towards the sunrise, towards the cessation of his daily duty.

The alarm sounds at 3AM, but he is already awake. The momentary solace gained from yesterday’s run serves little to ease his mind; he knows that his previous flawless performance will only result in another house to deliver to, another chance to miss. He also knows that the current economic situation gives reason for people to change to more reliable sources, and this viability of consumerism incarnate only deepens the hatred from his newspaper’s competitors. They will strike him hard today, with all they’ve got.

He is merely a messenger, yet the fate of his corporate employer rests solely on his prepubescent shoulders. And one hit is all it takes.

I have to get up before the sun even comes out just to deliver papers. I’m forced to vandalize the houses of non-subscribers out of loyalty to my employer. I could get arrested, run over, or blown away. Do I have accident insurance? No. I am pitted against the Grim Reaper himself and expected to perform flawlessly, and for what? The minuscule paycheck I receive every two weeks? The occasional ‘pat-on-the-back’ by my boss? Pipe dreams of Power Gloves and plumbers?

Throw, throw. I have to quit. After today, I’m done. This is all too much for any one Paperboy.

The tediousness and pressure of his circadian consign suddenly converge on him and blind him to his imminent demise. He snaps back to reality just in time to see the trackless sole of a size 11 Converse sneaker flying towards his face. Trackless, yet formidable.

His last thoughts before the blackness: %#@*! Who break dances in the middle of the street?!

GAME OVER
Click to expand...
 
That reminds me of Al Herrington, President and CEO of Al Herrington's wacky, waving, inflatable arm, flailing tubeman emporium and warehouse.. Darklurkr23
 
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