OMIGAWD! I think I killed a mime!!!
I was on the corner waiting for a luxury sedan when a mime walks up (pretending like a strong wind was blowing) and starts giving me grief about having a clown in my lap–see, the angry mime’s a regular Lint Screen reader (he probably moves his lips as he does so) and he saw that picture of me with a clown in my lap (see below) and now he’s like really steamed because he thinks I like clowns way better than I like mimes and his wild gestures totally invade my personal space so what else can I do but pretend to pull out my imaginary semi-automatic (I have a right to bear imaginary arms) and give him a clip-full of reasoned debate and what-for and he falls to the ground and starts bleeding like Crazy McDaisy and I don’t think it’s pantomime bleeding cuz the sidewalk is all icky and I get scared and run down the street screaming and flailing my arms and now I’m huddled here in the J.K. Rowling section of the library shivering like a leaf of cabbage in a freezer with my laptop nestled in my lapal region wondering if I’m a stark raving killer who’s destined for resers in the crossbar motel and so I’m begging you PLEASE scrape together some bail $$$ cuz I think I’m gonna need it cuz I might have just killed me a mime, which I think is against the law…