In the 1930s, a serial killer offed at least 12 victims in Cleveland, leaving their headless and limbless torsos in a gritty east-side area known as Kingsbury Run. The killer was never found, although the murders did stop as suddenly as they started.Had it been closer to that era, I would say the "Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run" struck again...this time in the coffee kitchen at my office.
Poor Mr. Jingles. By 3 p.m., he had been pretty much decapitated. A few sizable chunks of chocolate head remained along with many shards. Only his body was left, and part of that was missing, as well.
I slipped in to take his picture and encountered our H.R. director, who noted, quite impassively, "Once we get through the chocolate, then we can start in on the white chocolate." I thoughtfully considered this, reached into the plastic bag, and I'm ashamed to say, snagged another hunk of Mr. Jingle's tasty chocolate remains.
I slipped in to take his picture and encountered our H.R. director, who noted, quite impassively, "Once we get through the chocolate, then we can start in on the white chocolate." I thoughtfully considered this, reached into the plastic bag, and I'm ashamed to say, snagged another hunk of Mr. Jingle's tasty chocolate remains.
RIP Mr. Jingles. You served us well.
1 comment:
You will be missed Mr. Jingles, but damn, you tasted good!
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