Profound Propofol Prose

“Fellow ruffians, I hence forth conclude that all mice are green! Tomorrow, I’ll become the mayor of Condor and we will float in the wind of the daisy petals. Which is why we will be cracking down on excess call-ins.”

“Can you explain this paragraph and the rest of this garbage submission?” my boss questioned.

From behind a mouthful of gauze, I managed to speak, “Myuh wizzdummm teethhh surrrjuhree. Mayyvee werrrkiin’ aaaffter thuhh sedaaashun wuzzzin a gooood idyuhh.”

At least I had finally broken through my writer’s block.