Surly Bikes
This is a picture of Sovern in a bunny suit, floating in Surly's Anomoly Containment Unit.
See, Sov was sitting at his desk this morning when I got here, talking to a customer on the phone, and I accidently pushed the wrong button on the Surly Central Processing Command Center computer masterboard. I thought it was the hot chocolate dispensing button. There was a quick, bright flash, the smell of burning hair, and the next thing I knew Sov was about 10% of his original size and inexplicably dressed in a bunny costume. At first I didn't know where he'd gone, but he jumped off his now-enormous chair, stomped over to my desk in a miniature rage, and kicked me in the big toe. His voice is now high and squeaky, and he is super pissed off about it, as later this afternoon he has to --and I am not making this up-- call a watermelon seed spitting contest (maybe it has something to do with playing the banjo, I don't know. I do not dwell long enough to educate myself on his myriad perversions).
Unsure what to do, I grabbed him and threw him in the ACU chamber, where we keep all the weird crap produced by the CPCC computer, like the fixed gear derailleur, bullhorn handlebars, and Brauer, until such time as the anomoly du jour can be stabilized and refined into an actual product or absorbed back into the shitstem...er, system.
Turns out the button is the Random Idea Modifier (we have one of those?). I never did get my hot chocolate.
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See, Sov was sitting at his desk this morning when I got here, talking to a customer on the phone, and I accidently pushed the wrong button on the Surly Central Processing Command Center computer masterboard. I thought it was the hot chocolate dispensing button. There was a quick, bright flash, the smell of burning hair, and the next thing I knew Sov was about 10% of his original size and inexplicably dressed in a bunny costume. At first I didn't know where he'd gone, but he jumped off his now-enormous chair, stomped over to my desk in a miniature rage, and kicked me in the big toe. His voice is now high and squeaky, and he is super pissed off about it, as later this afternoon he has to --and I am not making this up-- call a watermelon seed spitting contest (maybe it has something to do with playing the banjo, I don't know. I do not dwell long enough to educate myself on his myriad perversions).
Unsure what to do, I grabbed him and threw him in the ACU chamber, where we keep all the weird crap produced by the CPCC computer, like the fixed gear derailleur, bullhorn handlebars, and Brauer, until such time as the anomoly du jour can be stabilized and refined into an actual product or absorbed back into the shitstem...er, system.
Turns out the button is the Random Idea Modifier (we have one of those?). I never did get my hot chocolate.
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