Maybe it was the sudden sting of upper-Midwest summer humidity. Maybe it was all the talk of Tim's soon-to-arrive athletic training equipment. Whatever it was, the testosterone suddenly and inexplicably shot up at the Attic, and what had been until that time a calm studio of creative exploration turned into the most intense, take-no-prisoners brawl this tri-state area has yet seen. Witnesses to the wild display of strength and ferocity run amok found themselves without words, but fortunately with Ace bandages and a digital camera. In the end, as suddenly as it came, the frenzied fisticuffsmanship came to a close, with no clear winner decided. Only time will tell if such a terrible fate should ever pass through the studio again. (We pray not.)
Now I know who has been beating up on Max (I love it when mysteries are solved.)
ReplyDeleteI hopy you made the loser have dust or something.
hopy? Deep sigh...
ReplyDeletePlease log your hours as Big Time Attic > Internal > Fisticuffs.
ReplyDeleteNon-billable.
oh, shad's mom. i understand you.
ReplyDeleteWow, I think that is the first time anyone has ever said they understand me. Must be that precognition thing. I meant to say "I hope you made the loser dust or something" but I'm so looking forward to the end of this day that I can't deal with the right now. Or this morning, for that matter. HA! Understand THAT, oh fist-i-cuff one!
ReplyDeleteI don't know if I can work in such a constantly hostile environment
ReplyDeleteit slowly crushes your soul, but you'll get used to not having one. :P
ReplyDeletehey now...
ReplyDelete