Today when I arrived at work I was told a harrowing tale by my kitchen manager Mike, who we call Bogey both as a way to shorten his last name and because he's a self admitted terrible golfer. Bogey just got back from a week off and when I asked him how it went his response was "Just excellent...............until they dropped the fridge on me." Naturally when you hear that sentence you have to hear what comes next, and as he preceded to tell me the story my mentality(one that I've had for years, and the mentality of my brothers and fellow kitchen staff workers) of it's funny cause it didn't happen to me kicked in, and it led to many jokes being made throughout the day. So because I always have to take things one step further, and because he's probably not gonna read this, I present to you now the Ballad of Micheal Beauregard.
Here lies Bogey, he moved just a smidge
And found himself trapped, under a fridge
He had asked his son and his dad for some guidance
Yet he still found himself, underneath the appliance
He could not scream or yell, all he could do was whisper
For his legs were pinned, by the vegetable crisper
He struggled to get free before all hope was lost
Soon it would be too late, the fridge would defrost
The fridge gave way when his dad couldn't hold her
Now when they meet, he gets the cold shoulder
His son stood silent, his face fixed in awe
He couldn't believe there was a fridge on his Pa
Bogey couldn't believe it himself
When the door it flew open and down came a shelf
Then the fridge it was lifted, he was freed from death's choke
And all he could say, was that he needed a smoke
Bogey survived this extraordinary tussle
With only some bumps and some bruises
And a slightly pulled muscle
As the days went on, his spirits were higher
As he thought to himself, at least it wasn't a dryer
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