The Offensive Occurrence Of Cleveland Clasp
Our story begins one dewy dawn. Cleveland Clasp was an averagely tall man, with an average width waist. He always wore average blue jeans with average brown shoes. He always went to his average job in his averagely foreign car. On his way to work he always searched for an average station and always found 106.9 The Joe.
Upon arrival at The General Dime A Dozen-Garden Varity Garden Supply Corporate Head Quarters he searched for a parking spot in the front but as always the good spots were always taken so he searched some more toward the back and found a spot as always in the middle of the inadequate parking lot. In the elevator on his way up to the tenth floor he always looked at the golden twenty button at the bottom of the button collection, wishing and wondering what sort of wondrous widgets and what knots are always up there. Though he was always interrupted by the dispassionate ring of the elevator bell and the doors opening to the generally gray office cubes and as he took one of many daily deep breaths he stared in towards his cube.
As his day wears on, he staples and types buy orders and sale orders for local stores that are placed in a blanketing fashion all over the U.S. and a few in Canada, he always at 2:30 leaned back in his chair poking his slightly round head out of his gray cube to catch a glimpse of the beautiful day that was always outside. Though as always his boss is right behind him. Feeling the presences of Mr. Bill Bateman Bigwig Buttons Cleveland spun around just in order to receive the routine speech about how Cleveland Clasp should keep his eyes on his paper work so one day maybe he can enjoy that beautiful sunshine that is outside. Cleveland nodded and returned to his routine work. After Mr. Buttons walked away he quickly turned his attention and his monitor to his daily blog and wrote to his followers how his average job is not worth his average pay.
Every average day it was customary of his one and only niece Claire Clasp to send him a text or an e-mail to his average phone or average apple. She always send him a funny joke or nice saying because, after all she was the daughter of Cleveland’s brother Cosmos Clasp the great architect of such inventions like L.O.L.C.D (also know as the little old lady crosswalk device) and the Amazing R.A.I.N.D. (also known as The Robotic Artificial Intelligence Nexus Dog), she herself was a young and affectionate High school student that had bake sales for the Y.B.C.C. (also known as the Young Blind Children Clinic) and no one can forget about her branch off lemonade stand that made over five thousand dollars for the D.A. F.C. (also known as the Deaf Alliance Freedom Club). Those sweet messages were the only bright part of our friend Cleveland’s day. At 5:05 our friend returned to his average foreign car and drove off to a restaurant.
His only choice in his day that he had to make was weather to eat at Fast Fickles Fatties drive through or Sitties Mcsitterson’s Sitdown and savor seconds. After his exciting choice of dull diners he return to his average two-bedroom house on Ashen Avenue. He would always walk into his house while unbuttoning his shirt to only find his R.A.I.N.D. chewing on his shoes or spilling oil on his carpet. After cleaning up the mess he took a lukewarm shower and then headed to bed. Then before he would nod off he would take his generic allergy pill and a deep breath and wait for the diurnal course to come.
But today was not just an average day…
Cleveland’s analog alarm clock rang and Cleveland arose wiping the goopy globs of eye goobers out of his blood shot eyes. Looking down at his alarm clock he realize that it was ten o’clock and by this time surly Mr. Buttons would know that he was late. So Cleveland let out a pitifully pathetic “Ah crap.” So Cleveland grabbed his clothing and swiftly slung it on.
Walking out to his average foreign car he hopped in and speedily drove to his self-proclaimed worthless work. Upon arrival at The General Dime A Dozen-Garden Varity Garden Supply Corporate Head Quarters he search for a parking spot but, of course no spots up in the front so he moved to the middle but, in fact the only silly spot he could find was a blasted back spot were it seemed a hobo had slept the night before. In the parking spot lie a cardboard box and a half eaten sandwich but it would have to do. Our friend pulled in and heard a squish, spray and, splat. Thinking that he had killed a hobo he hurried around and realized that the sandwich had mustard packets in it, and had exploded all over the wheel well. Cleveland grabbed his brow and felt a squish and the spicy sweet smell of mustard seeping down from his forehead. “Damn it!!” Cleveland screamed as he fled to the front door of his work place.
After making a Quick and quite stop at the bathroom he ran to the elevator. While he was ascending in the metal box of which he was sure to be his chariot to crummy news, the gilded twenty buttons seemed to terribly taunt him. Though when the doors opened and he stepped out no one noticed Mr. Buttons was not making his malicious rounds, in fact he was no where to be seen. So Cleveland made his way to his desk and sat down and started on his work. With a feverish pace he worked through his lunch and around 2:30 he had finished his daily work. Leaning back in his chair he felt the presences of Mr. Buttons. “How many times do I have to tell you Cleveland if you ever want to make it to the top floor you got to keep at you papers.” Cleveland, knowing that if he showed Mr. Buttons that he had done all his work for the day, Mr. Buttons would just pile someone else’s load on to his dreadful desk. So in reasonable response Cleveland just nodded and then turned to his apple and started to type. “Mr. Button had been fooled for now” Cleveland thought to him self as his leaned back once again and nodded off.
The Voice of the E-mail man rang on Cleveland’s apple “You’ve Got Mail!”
Cleveland sat up in a groggy state and muttered “Oh I do, do I?” Cleveland opened his mail and much to his surprise it was a message from Barbara in billings. As he read the message he realized that it was hate mail to him about Mr. Buttons. At the end of what turned out to be a very graphic list of what Barbara in billings would like to do to Mr. Buttons corpse after she had ran him over with a 747 airliner. It had one damning question at the end of it. “So what do you think?”
Cleveland stopped and thought if he should reply “meh why the hell not!” Cleveland ripped and tore though the revolting reply. Feeling good about getting that distasteful distraction off his chest he laugh and said, “I can’t wait till Barbara reads that.”
Another hour goes by and something strange pours over him, a presence, and one that he had already felt once today…. Mr. Buttons. So Cleveland plastered a pathetic smile on and turned around but he did not see the blue suit of Mr. Buttons instead he saw a hard copy of the letter that he had sent to Barbara in billings. A cold sweat came over him and his hands became cold and clammy. Mr. Buttons only said one sentence “Next time you send a letter about your boss and how much you want to kill him don’t send it to everyone in the building, oh and I don’t think that you’ll be needed tomorrow.” With a smile and a wink Mr. Buttons seemed to float away on a killing cloud like the grim reaper.
Cleveland didn’t know what to do so he turned to his trusting followers on his blog, and complained to them. Within seconds of his post a new post was put up by DopyDude2120 saying, “Stop feeling sorry for yourself because we don’t care!” Well Cleveland had never felt so betrayed by his brethren. Cleveland unleashed a hell storm of graphic reason of why DoopyDude2120’s opinion did not mean anything. DopyDude2120 only said one thing back “This wont be the last from me!”
Feeling angry Cleveland lurched up and he launched himself towards the door. Just wanting to go home he fled to his mustard smelling car. As he sat in the car he received a message from his niece Claire. Thinking that maybe it would be a funny joke or a sweet saying just enough to cheer him he opened the multimedia message. Opening the message it stared off with “I love so much and I cant wait to see you next.” Cleveland not thinking of it moved to the picture that his niece sent him. Which turned out to be an explicit image of his niece. He Screamed and then proceed to delete the message and drove right home to have a video chat with his brother.
Unbeknownst to Cleveland his little niece wasn’t such a sweet heart, she had skimmed off the top 20% of all of her fund raisers, which happened to be around seven hundred dollars, which she spent on a fake I.D. so she could get into one of the top clubs in town a week before. At this club she met her 25-year-old boyfriend. Clarence Clark, who’s number, only sat one spot above poor Cleveland’s.
Upon Arriving at where his home should have been there was nothing but a smoldering pile of wet wood, a fire truck and a few fire fighters. As he parked on the side of the street and one of the fire fighters walked up to him, he noticed some words spray painted on what used to be his drive way out of the corner of his eyes. He immediately started walking towards the writing. It stated “THE DUDE WAS HERE.” Cleveland broke down and fell to his knees and screamed “DAMN YOU DUDE DAMN YOU!!!” Cleveland holding his face in his hands thought that his day couldn’t get any worse until he felt the hands of the police men on his shoulders and they turned him around and started to cuff him, as he started to ask the police what was going on, they flip open his phone and clicked open the picture of his niece he thought he had deleted. Cleveland was silent as the carted him to the squad car.
As he sat in the holding cell at the police station he cried to himself but just before he fell asleep he heard a strange sound as loud as a train. “You’ve Got Mail!” he snapped his head forward and found himself still sleeping in his chair at The General Dime A Dozen-Garden Varity Garden Supply Corporate Head Quarters. With the goopy glop still in his eyes he leaned forward only to open the letter from Barbara in billings. He stood wide eye and right on the spot deleted the message. Then called his niece Claire and told her never to send anything over the phone that she didn’t want the police to see. Which thoroughly scared the crap out of Claire and resulted in her not sending the picture. Then Cleveland looked to his blog for a DopyDude2120 and found him. A shiver slinked up his spine. As he started to write his blog feeling angry about something that never had happened he then delete the words of hate, and all he wrote was “I hope your all having a great day.” The DopyDude2120 replied back, as Cleveland Shied away from the screen on to see under the Dudes name “I hope you have a great day too.” As Cleveland left his hopeless job Mr. Buttons met him and the door and said “I think tomorrow will see you on floor 14.”
Our story begins one dewy dawn. Cleveland Clasp was an averagely tall man, with an average width waist. He always wore average blue jeans with average brown shoes. He always went to his average job in his averagely foreign car. On his way to work he always searched for an average station and always found 106.9 The Joe.
Upon arrival at The General Dime A Dozen-Garden Varity Garden Supply Corporate Head Quarters he searched for a parking spot in the front but as always the good spots were always taken so he searched some more toward the back and found a spot as always in the middle of the inadequate parking lot. In the elevator on his way up to the tenth floor he always looked at the golden twenty button at the bottom of the button collection, wishing and wondering what sort of wondrous widgets and what knots are always up there. Though he was always interrupted by the dispassionate ring of the elevator bell and the doors opening to the generally gray office cubes and as he took one of many daily deep breaths he stared in towards his cube.
As his day wears on, he staples and types buy orders and sale orders for local stores that are placed in a blanketing fashion all over the U.S. and a few in Canada, he always at 2:30 leaned back in his chair poking his slightly round head out of his gray cube to catch a glimpse of the beautiful day that was always outside. Though as always his boss is right behind him. Feeling the presences of Mr. Bill Bateman Bigwig Buttons Cleveland spun around just in order to receive the routine speech about how Cleveland Clasp should keep his eyes on his paper work so one day maybe he can enjoy that beautiful sunshine that is outside. Cleveland nodded and returned to his routine work. After Mr. Buttons walked away he quickly turned his attention and his monitor to his daily blog and wrote to his followers how his average job is not worth his average pay.
Every average day it was customary of his one and only niece Claire Clasp to send him a text or an e-mail to his average phone or average apple. She always send him a funny joke or nice saying because, after all she was the daughter of Cleveland’s brother Cosmos Clasp the great architect of such inventions like L.O.L.C.D (also know as the little old lady crosswalk device) and the Amazing R.A.I.N.D. (also known as The Robotic Artificial Intelligence Nexus Dog), she herself was a young and affectionate High school student that had bake sales for the Y.B.C.C. (also known as the Young Blind Children Clinic) and no one can forget about her branch off lemonade stand that made over five thousand dollars for the D.A. F.C. (also known as the Deaf Alliance Freedom Club). Those sweet messages were the only bright part of our friend Cleveland’s day. At 5:05 our friend returned to his average foreign car and drove off to a restaurant.
His only choice in his day that he had to make was weather to eat at Fast Fickles Fatties drive through or Sitties Mcsitterson’s Sitdown and savor seconds. After his exciting choice of dull diners he return to his average two-bedroom house on Ashen Avenue. He would always walk into his house while unbuttoning his shirt to only find his R.A.I.N.D. chewing on his shoes or spilling oil on his carpet. After cleaning up the mess he took a lukewarm shower and then headed to bed. Then before he would nod off he would take his generic allergy pill and a deep breath and wait for the diurnal course to come.
But today was not just an average day…
Cleveland’s analog alarm clock rang and Cleveland arose wiping the goopy globs of eye goobers out of his blood shot eyes. Looking down at his alarm clock he realize that it was ten o’clock and by this time surly Mr. Buttons would know that he was late. So Cleveland let out a pitifully pathetic “Ah crap.” So Cleveland grabbed his clothing and swiftly slung it on.
Walking out to his average foreign car he hopped in and speedily drove to his self-proclaimed worthless work. Upon arrival at The General Dime A Dozen-Garden Varity Garden Supply Corporate Head Quarters he search for a parking spot but, of course no spots up in the front so he moved to the middle but, in fact the only silly spot he could find was a blasted back spot were it seemed a hobo had slept the night before. In the parking spot lie a cardboard box and a half eaten sandwich but it would have to do. Our friend pulled in and heard a squish, spray and, splat. Thinking that he had killed a hobo he hurried around and realized that the sandwich had mustard packets in it, and had exploded all over the wheel well. Cleveland grabbed his brow and felt a squish and the spicy sweet smell of mustard seeping down from his forehead. “Damn it!!” Cleveland screamed as he fled to the front door of his work place.
After making a Quick and quite stop at the bathroom he ran to the elevator. While he was ascending in the metal box of which he was sure to be his chariot to crummy news, the gilded twenty buttons seemed to terribly taunt him. Though when the doors opened and he stepped out no one noticed Mr. Buttons was not making his malicious rounds, in fact he was no where to be seen. So Cleveland made his way to his desk and sat down and started on his work. With a feverish pace he worked through his lunch and around 2:30 he had finished his daily work. Leaning back in his chair he felt the presences of Mr. Buttons. “How many times do I have to tell you Cleveland if you ever want to make it to the top floor you got to keep at you papers.” Cleveland, knowing that if he showed Mr. Buttons that he had done all his work for the day, Mr. Buttons would just pile someone else’s load on to his dreadful desk. So in reasonable response Cleveland just nodded and then turned to his apple and started to type. “Mr. Button had been fooled for now” Cleveland thought to him self as his leaned back once again and nodded off.
The Voice of the E-mail man rang on Cleveland’s apple “You’ve Got Mail!”
Cleveland sat up in a groggy state and muttered “Oh I do, do I?” Cleveland opened his mail and much to his surprise it was a message from Barbara in billings. As he read the message he realized that it was hate mail to him about Mr. Buttons. At the end of what turned out to be a very graphic list of what Barbara in billings would like to do to Mr. Buttons corpse after she had ran him over with a 747 airliner. It had one damning question at the end of it. “So what do you think?”
Cleveland stopped and thought if he should reply “meh why the hell not!” Cleveland ripped and tore though the revolting reply. Feeling good about getting that distasteful distraction off his chest he laugh and said, “I can’t wait till Barbara reads that.”
Another hour goes by and something strange pours over him, a presence, and one that he had already felt once today…. Mr. Buttons. So Cleveland plastered a pathetic smile on and turned around but he did not see the blue suit of Mr. Buttons instead he saw a hard copy of the letter that he had sent to Barbara in billings. A cold sweat came over him and his hands became cold and clammy. Mr. Buttons only said one sentence “Next time you send a letter about your boss and how much you want to kill him don’t send it to everyone in the building, oh and I don’t think that you’ll be needed tomorrow.” With a smile and a wink Mr. Buttons seemed to float away on a killing cloud like the grim reaper.
Cleveland didn’t know what to do so he turned to his trusting followers on his blog, and complained to them. Within seconds of his post a new post was put up by DopyDude2120 saying, “Stop feeling sorry for yourself because we don’t care!” Well Cleveland had never felt so betrayed by his brethren. Cleveland unleashed a hell storm of graphic reason of why DoopyDude2120’s opinion did not mean anything. DopyDude2120 only said one thing back “This wont be the last from me!”
Feeling angry Cleveland lurched up and he launched himself towards the door. Just wanting to go home he fled to his mustard smelling car. As he sat in the car he received a message from his niece Claire. Thinking that maybe it would be a funny joke or a sweet saying just enough to cheer him he opened the multimedia message. Opening the message it stared off with “I love so much and I cant wait to see you next.” Cleveland not thinking of it moved to the picture that his niece sent him. Which turned out to be an explicit image of his niece. He Screamed and then proceed to delete the message and drove right home to have a video chat with his brother.
Unbeknownst to Cleveland his little niece wasn’t such a sweet heart, she had skimmed off the top 20% of all of her fund raisers, which happened to be around seven hundred dollars, which she spent on a fake I.D. so she could get into one of the top clubs in town a week before. At this club she met her 25-year-old boyfriend. Clarence Clark, who’s number, only sat one spot above poor Cleveland’s.
Upon Arriving at where his home should have been there was nothing but a smoldering pile of wet wood, a fire truck and a few fire fighters. As he parked on the side of the street and one of the fire fighters walked up to him, he noticed some words spray painted on what used to be his drive way out of the corner of his eyes. He immediately started walking towards the writing. It stated “THE DUDE WAS HERE.” Cleveland broke down and fell to his knees and screamed “DAMN YOU DUDE DAMN YOU!!!” Cleveland holding his face in his hands thought that his day couldn’t get any worse until he felt the hands of the police men on his shoulders and they turned him around and started to cuff him, as he started to ask the police what was going on, they flip open his phone and clicked open the picture of his niece he thought he had deleted. Cleveland was silent as the carted him to the squad car.
As he sat in the holding cell at the police station he cried to himself but just before he fell asleep he heard a strange sound as loud as a train. “You’ve Got Mail!” he snapped his head forward and found himself still sleeping in his chair at The General Dime A Dozen-Garden Varity Garden Supply Corporate Head Quarters. With the goopy glop still in his eyes he leaned forward only to open the letter from Barbara in billings. He stood wide eye and right on the spot deleted the message. Then called his niece Claire and told her never to send anything over the phone that she didn’t want the police to see. Which thoroughly scared the crap out of Claire and resulted in her not sending the picture. Then Cleveland looked to his blog for a DopyDude2120 and found him. A shiver slinked up his spine. As he started to write his blog feeling angry about something that never had happened he then delete the words of hate, and all he wrote was “I hope your all having a great day.” The DopyDude2120 replied back, as Cleveland Shied away from the screen on to see under the Dudes name “I hope you have a great day too.” As Cleveland left his hopeless job Mr. Buttons met him and the door and said “I think tomorrow will see you on floor 14.”
haha do you just wanna use your story for ours or something cuz its sooo much better.
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