“Our locksmith is so fired.”
Okay, well that at least has been sorted out. Finally. Took a few days, but the AFFotD offices are 100% hostage-takers-free. We’ve even cleaned up the Ukrainian Blood. Do you know how hard Ukrainian blood is to get out? So hard.
Obviously, many readers were quite worried a few days ago when we posted a desperate plea for help from the staff’s broom closet (it’s the most American broom closet you can imagine. The mop bucket uses bourbon instead of water) letting you all know that we had, yet again, been kidnapped by some God. Damn. Ukrainians.
Gone were our attack monkeys (fuck you, PETA), gone were our chainsaw-nun-chucks (stupid government regulations), gone were our automated defense systems (…actually that was our bad, we totally forgot to pay the electricity bill last month).
All we had were our wits. Well, that and an army of nameless interns to send on suicidal missions. Their screams will haunt us for the rest of our days.
We’re still trying to get things back to operational capacity here, but we did have a few of our more semi-literate staff members describing their experience as it was happening through various journal entries. We know, ugh, that’s just the fucking worst. So here is…
AFFotD Staff Members Write About Their Feelings and Shit, When Shit Gets Real
The first entry we found was from one of our Interns. He wrote his name on the piece of paper, but really, if you make the effort to remember one Intern’s name, you’re going to have to start remembering all of that. It sets bad precedent. So we’ll just call him “That Dead Intern.” They’re all “That Dead Intern.” Seriously, how do we get so many applications for our Intern positions? We don’t even bother offering school credit, for Christ’s sake.
So The Dead Intern was working at our security desk. “Wait, AFFotD, why do you have Interns working as Security guards?” Well, do you know how expensive a security detail is? Neither do we, because we’re so not willing to spend that money we haven’t even bothered to find out. Anyway, our Intern’s take…
THE NAMELESS INTERN
It’s really dark here. For a company that spends so much money on shit we never use, I don’t understand why we cut so many corners. We get mail bombs sent to us DAILY, and they don’t pay for any screening equipment. But yesterday Johnny Roosevelt came in and said that we bought every Red Lobster in the state of Idaho. Why Idaho? I have no idea, I think he considered what state would be the WORST performing state for the fine Red Lobster franchise, and focused there.
To be fair, they didn’t always force me to work in the dark, but once they saw me scribbling in my notebook they started freaking out. “You’re writing? What the hell?” It was a big thing. They kept accusing me of being a communist. “How does writing in a journal make me a communist?” I asked. “Shut the fuck up, Intern,” they responded.
…Wait, what as that noise? Oh fucking seriously? Ukrainians? Again? I wasn’t here the last time they invaded, but I’ve heard enough war stories about the last time they invaded the offices. Us Interns, we don’t last that long here you see. They say that British World War I fighter pilots had a longer average lifespan than AFFotD interns. I usually respond by pointing out, you know, how that seems like a needlessly specific historical reference.
Oh right, Ukrainians…well, we have the monkeys right? I’ll press the “Release the Monkeys” button…and…nothing. Fuck. There’s a button that says, “If There Are No Attack Monkeys Press This Button” so…I might as well.
Wait, what’s that hissing noise? Is that…is that gas? Oh that is not good gas…oh, fuck you guys. You guys suck so hard.
We also found a recording from our very own [REDACTED]. It’s…about what you’d expect.
Hello? Is this thing on? Check one two check, titties, titties, hamburger, alright we’re liiiiiive from the war zone. All the Interns are dead, which means it’s a Tuesday. Ha! But seriously, the floors are slick with their blood. Ha ha! Zing!
Well the first wave of Ukes were taken out during the standard “sacrifice the Interns” safety procedure. The second wave was taken out with our Home-Alone-based booby traps, which despite what the movies led us to believe, are incredibly deadly, and often sadistically so. We weren’t expecting that, but I personally fucking love it.
Why did the Ukrainians decide to attack us again? Most have been assuming that it was a Die Hard 3 situation, where the foreign brother of the previous group’s dead leader was trying to stage some elaborate revenge. Do I care? No, I just enjoyed getting my blood lust out there. Ever since that Vegan food…just…you know. Well, right? Urge to kill, right? Urge to kill…
And finally, we will go to our fearless leader, Johnny Roosevelt, and his official statement regarding the incident.
There is nothing to speak of. The AFFotD offices were incapacitated briefly by a foreign element. Some interns were lost, and there was a bit of a stand off. We’ve since completely recovered, and would prefer if the media did not try to make a thing out of it. When you’re in this business, you’re going to have the occasional hostage situation, and you learn to handle them in stride. You know. Like a damn American.