What is a man but his word? What is a song but its lyrics? Two questions that have been haunting Franklin Sanders' shower thoughts since last Tuesday.
During the morning commute with his coworker, Sanders thought he had found a moment to bond when "One Week" by the Barenaked Ladies came on the car radio. After cranking the volume, Sanders shouted, “This is my jam! I know every word!” Unfortunately, that was a lie. Sanders' mirage unraveled once the second verse hit. Instead of clearly annunciating the obvious lyrics, "Chickity China, the Chinese chicken", Sanders shamefully whispered, "Chicita churro, the chimpanzee Nixon."
Sanders had asked his associate, Phil Butterbum, to carpool with him after learning they live in the same apartment complex next to the mall. To avoid coming off like a dick, Butterbum accepted the invitation. "Franklin seemed nice. Plus driving in the carpool lane is a time saver." But since showing his true colors, Butterbum has had to rethink his transportation situation, stating, "I don't think I can sit next to someone for twenty-two minutes twice a day who doesn't know the sage and life-altering lyrics of BNL."
That Tuesday afternoon following the incident, Butterbum informed Sanders that he didn't need a ride home via Teams message. Knowing that Butterbum spends majority of his free time dressing as a cat and forcibly snuggling his Sphynx at home, Sanders sensed something was up. He messaged back, "You sure? Mr. Tickletummy needs you at home to tickle his tummy. We cool?" It was a grueling eleven minutes before Butterbum replied, "We not cool."
Sanders has called off sick the last thirteen days since that fateful Teams message. With only two total sick days saved up prior to his hiatus, Sherry in HR has started drafting his letter of termination. She was totally going to mail it out today, but got distracted by Kathy who had a wild weekend story (what else is new, am I right?!). She'll be sending it out first thing in the morning.
Upon request, Franklin has refused to comment on his disgraceful Tuesday morning exploits.
Let it be known that by publishing this article, Highbrow Lowbrow is not condoning the despicable and tasteless actions taken by Franklin Sanders. We are all devout Barenaked Ladies lovers. For they are the one true way and their sacred melodies shall be forever enshrined as the greatest accomplishments of mankind. Particularly that super golly-fun theme song they wrote for The Big Bang Theory. Bazinga!
