Guilty Squid

Note: This entire post was writ­ten in my doc­tors office while wait­ing for my pre­scrip­tions. This explains why there are no graphics.

Ways to amuse your­self with var­i­ous door to door Buy My Dubi­ous Product/Cause/Religion salespeople.

*Knock-Knock*

Door opens, young guy with a clip­board is stand­ing there and starts to speak…

“Hi! Do you have 60 sec­onds to help me elim­i­nate styrofoam?”

Wrong Answer:

Now is really not a good time, and we don’t accept solicitations.

Right Answers:

Sty­ro­foam saved my Grandad’s life after his boat sunk off of the coast of Kinka­jou. He was a hero. We still have that sty­ro­foam cooler today. You sir, have no respect for the great Amer­i­cans like my Grandad. HOW DARE YOU! *Slam Door*

Or:

My Aunt Mabel would be dead today if it weren’t for the kid­ney trans­plant. And that kid­ney was deliv­ered in a sty­ro­foam cooler. Sty­ro­foam keeps organs fresh and beer cold. Although, not at the same time. That’s just unhy­gienic. My point is, you clearly hate peo­ple who need organ trans­plants and cold beer. I am a human­i­tar­ian and you sir, are the enemy. BE GONE WITH YOU.

Or:

I don’t know what sort of spell you’ve got that would take 60 sec­onds and rid the world of sty­ro­foam, but if we’re going to prac­tice the dark arts, we have to do my spell first. I’ll need you to go get me some blood drawn humanely from a live chicken, three hairs from a 50 year old vir­gin and a slushy. The slushy isn’t for the spell, it’s for me. Hey wait! Where are you going? You for­got to ask what flavor!!

*Knock-Knock*

Door opens, young guy with a box is stand­ing there and starts to speak…

“Hi! I’m here to give you a chance at this amaz­ing oppor­tu­nity to buy some qual­ity steaks with­out hav­ing to leave your home.”

Wrong answer:

I live in the coun­try. Look around you. Those beasts all around us? Cows. I am *not* your tar­get market.

Right Answer:

Ohmuh­gawd, I can’t believe you’re finally here! Do you have that *spe­cial* meat I ordered? Don’t think I’m pay­ing for filets that still have cat hair on them! Fool me once, fine. Fool me twice and there’s no way you’ll sell inap­pro­pri­ate meat in this town again!

Or:

I can’t par­tic­i­pate in the con­sump­tion of meat prod­ucts as per the terms of my release, but there’s a hip­pie vegan com­pound off of Hwy 90 you might try. I don’t think those peo­ple have had steaks in years!

Or:

(Look at the truck, with tears welling up in your eyes and cry) DAISY! DAISY! OHMUHGAWD IS THAT MY DAISY COW IN THERE?

(Look at sales­man in hor­ror and cry) WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY DAISY?

*Knock-Knock*

Door opens, a young cou­ple with pam­phlets is stand­ing there and they woman starts to speak…

“Good day, we’d like to share the good news with you.”

Wrong Answer:

I appre­ci­ate the ges­ture, but I’m a devout *insert ran­dom reli­gion or even a real reli­gion here*

Right Answer:

Excel­lent! Did you have any trou­ble dis­pos­ing of the body?

Or:

(Look at the man and nar­row your eyes and say)
My brother was wear­ing that exact same out­fit the last time he was seen alive. WHERE DID YOU GET THAT TIE??

Or:

You know what? I’ve had a rough week. I’ll lis­ten to your entire pitch, but first, I’m gonna need you to watch the kids for me for a bit. The baby is due to start scream­ing in about 15 min­utes. Watch out for Joe– don’t let him near elec­tric­ity, of sharp objects, or teddy bears. That boy is mostly not dan­ger­ous, but he’s just not right in the head. Give me a sec­ond. I’m gonna grab my keys and I’ll be back by oh– Sat­ur­day after­noon at the latest.

Some of these have been tested in a ran­dom sam­pling of peo­ple who were brave and/or fool­ish enough to knock on my door.

I don’t get many of them any­more. I sus­pect word has spread about me among the door-to-door-ers.

{ 9 comments }