Is this a strange old Armadillo! Cuddling up, leaving marks on my pillow!!
I sang the old Tony Christie classic under my breath as I waltzed into my old office.
Although in this version a short and twee, fat man from the UK is singing it.
A burly security guard stood in my way and brandished an odd-looking white gun at me.
Temperature check.
He grunted with a sneery air of dissatisfaction as if he had caught me pushing snacks through the fence at his wife for her to munch on.
I swung a hand out and waved it past him in that famous Jedi Mind trick way.
There is no need to measure this man's temperature. He is free to pass.
I said with steadfast calm.
Eh? Everybody gets their temperature checked or you don't come in.
He took a menacing step toward me like a bison scenting the musky odour of a cat's pyjamas.
Another security guard some way behind him perked up with interest at the whiff of potential drama and started making his way over to us. He had a ferrety look about him as if he could think of nothing better than writhing his way up and down a man's trouser leg.
The pair of them stood in front of me, like a wall of pork and poorly fitted polyester.
Ferret-Man stuck his head forward.
NO CHECKY NO ENTRY!
He snarled as if all his lucky chickens had come home to roost at once.
He nodded at his companion, Gunner-Joe who nodded back at him.
I could imagine the pair of them were already envisioning wrestling me to the ground and getting the strawberry jam out.
Dirty bastards.
I'm only here to hand in my old Iphone, do you want to take it?
I pulled my old company Iphone out of my pocket and held it out.
Ferret-Man slowly curled back in horror like one of those magic fish you get in cheap Christmas crackers.
source:see reddit post linked above.
Gunner-Joe put out a protective arm in front of Ferret-Man and pointed his big white gun at me, his beady eyes gleaming like frog-skin.
Temperature check. NOW.
His mask puffed in and out as if the act of talking to me was exhausting him.
Alright then, fuck sake. Take a chill pill.
I leaned forward and offered my forehead to the gun.
Gunner-Joe jammed the odd white gun to within a few inches of my forehead as if we were in a schlocky gangster movie and pulled the trigger.
Some moments later there was a soft beep.
Gunner-Joe looked at the end of his gun and his mouth dropped open, his eyes flicked up to mine and then back to the gun then back to me.
It's RED!!!
He barked in alarm tinged with disgust.
Both he and Ferret-Man backed away, eyes wide shaking their heads as if I were the zombie apocalypse.
What does that mean?
I asked with an optimistic grin, thinking it might mean 'sassy' like I were Nicole Scherzinger singing Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me...
Both Ferret-Man and Gunner-Joe looked nervy and unsure.
Nobody has been red yet?
Ferret-Man muttered, with an angsty twitching.
You definitely can't come in.
Growled Gunner-Joe his eyes darting about as if hoping for a porticullis he could drop to bar my way.
You must be ill.
Ferret-Man accused.
I'm not fucking ill, I am just fucking bored of this shite.
Could be Covid. Get away, come back when you are better.
The pair of them stood united, chins up and proud as if they had worked out who had stolen Mamacita's fajita.
I stared at them, mentally weighing up whether it was worth going full-on Mortal Kombat on their asses and spilling all the bloods in a fury of kicks and chops.
Fuck it.
I turned and went home.