AcmeShorts

The shit was going to hit the fan like a bad situation coming to the fore. Micky couldn't breathe. He hadn't felt this fucked up in the head since his dog had been involved with a series of insanely coincidental accidents. Lawsuits. Oh God, he still owed. But this was different. His woman had left a note on his desk this afternoon: You're a sick, perverted, untruthful bastard. In his head, he had edited the note, putting a check next to sick, a check next to perverted, but an X next to untruthful. The bastard part he was fairly sure was incorrect too. But he was afraid now. Afraid Minnie would leave him. It wasn't like she didn't have other offers. Maybe he could ask Donald if he could crash there tonight. But Donald was such a duck. He hated ducks. Why hadn't he just been more careful? Take The DVD Out Of The Fucking DVD Player.