Fictionlet
Greg, tapping away on his laptop, suddenly became aware that Brigid was snickering behind him, and had been for several seconds now. Looking over in vague confusion, he saw that she was at the table with her own laptop open, giggling intensely at something on the screen. “Client sent you new hours estimates, did they?” he said.
Brigid, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head, cheesed the snickering long enough to say “No, I was just looking in my SPAM folder and spotted ‘Breakthrough Miracle Love Drug! Enhance Your Bell-rope!'”
“‘Enhance Your Bell-rope!'” Greg exclaimed in outraged horror. “Ye gods! What kind of a euphemism is that? It brings to mind visions of Charles Laughton swinging on the old beef bayonet crying ‘Sangtuary! Sangtuary!'”
Brigid blinked and twitched. “Did you really just say ‘the old beef bayonet’?”
Greg, as if surprised by the question, said, “Well, yes. I was going to say ‘Mister Dingledangles,’ but I thought that might be too silly.”
By the time she’d finished laughing, Brigid had fallen off of her chair and bruised one of her shins very badly.
-The Gneech
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