Whatever happened to Jimmy?
25 October 2011 02:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
timpeltjeI wondered if it was a pubic hair of one of the legs of some spider I had killed that rested on my laptop screen. Blowing it off, I decided it didn't really matter, as it would never again fulfil its primordial function. Did you know liars are more likely to distance themselves from their subjects when they talk about it (calling it "a" pubic hair, "some" spider, instead of "my luscious" pubic hair or "Jimmy" the spider)? Liars also tend to elongate their sentences, e.g. using "did not" instead of "didn't.
Timmy got a hold of Jimmy
"You think you're pretty clever, don't you?" *shines desklamp into Timmy's face*
"Why, yes, as a matter of fact I do, thanks for noticing." *Timmy squints his eyes*
"Ha-ha, very funny.... you know you are not leaving this room until I have a confession that you killed Jimmy!" *so much spitting on Timmy's face while he speaks*
"But I tell you I do not know what happened to Jimmy!" *Timmy elegantly fishes with fingers in his own nose, hoping for a bite*
"Oh really? Then why do we have two witnesses confirming they saw you at the scene of the crime, shouting 'I will cut your fucking head off!'?" *through the man's teeth, a drop of saliva now unintentionally shoots forward, landing between Timmy's hands on the table*
"Because.... err.... wait... I got one... because it wasn't me who was there, but an imposter... oh, and just maybe.... I was talking to my pubic hair!" *Timmy leans back and just enjoys this melody (for a split second)*
*sigh* "We have DNA evidence connecting you to the crime scene, security camera footage of you getting out of your car together with your victim and a drunk e-mail dated August 13, 1989, where you threaten to kill Jimmy by cutting off his legs, and I quote, 'wiht a hair of cxissors' (SIC)." *almost orgasmic, more drool is spat towards Timmy The Hero*
"Oh, it's all a setup! There's DNA of me to be found everywhere - you can ask my psychiatrist. I'm very territorial, so I have this uncontrollable urge to err... onanically spread my genes all over the cities in which I live... Also, security camera footage? In that resolution, it could be just about any guy with a limp and no clothes on. And an e-mail from 1989? I may have been drunk, but time-travel drunk? I think not." *Timmy farts in support of this defence*
"So... then where were you last night between 9 and 10?" *switches off desk lamp to save on the police's energy bill ("60 Watt lightbulbs? Are you crazy?" they all said at the station, not clarifying whether his craziness would be related to his careless waste of nuclear electricity or to his torture method of shining light on his interrogees - let's assume it's a bit of both)*
"Why I was in that back alley, killing Jimmy..... oh shit!...."
"Oh shit, indeed...."
"Can I say it?"
"Say what?"
"Boys, take him away!"
As luck would have it, Timmy would only spend 18 hours in prison before being released on a technicality, i.e. a technical error at the prison's computer system that caused all cell doors and the front gate to open, allowing Timmy to make a hippity-hop walk outside of his confinement, taking with him hundreds of his new "top" friends...
And all lived happily ever after, except for most of them, who didn't.
Timmy got a hold of Jimmy
"You think you're pretty clever, don't you?" *shines desklamp into Timmy's face*
"Why, yes, as a matter of fact I do, thanks for noticing." *Timmy squints his eyes*
"Ha-ha, very funny.... you know you are not leaving this room until I have a confession that you killed Jimmy!" *so much spitting on Timmy's face while he speaks*
"But I tell you I do not know what happened to Jimmy!" *Timmy elegantly fishes with fingers in his own nose, hoping for a bite*
"Oh really? Then why do we have two witnesses confirming they saw you at the scene of the crime, shouting 'I will cut your fucking head off!'?" *through the man's teeth, a drop of saliva now unintentionally shoots forward, landing between Timmy's hands on the table*
"Because.... err.... wait... I got one... because it wasn't me who was there, but an imposter... oh, and just maybe.... I was talking to my pubic hair!" *Timmy leans back and just enjoys this melody (for a split second)*
*sigh* "We have DNA evidence connecting you to the crime scene, security camera footage of you getting out of your car together with your victim and a drunk e-mail dated August 13, 1989, where you threaten to kill Jimmy by cutting off his legs, and I quote, 'wiht a hair of cxissors' (SIC)." *almost orgasmic, more drool is spat towards Timmy The Hero*
"Oh, it's all a setup! There's DNA of me to be found everywhere - you can ask my psychiatrist. I'm very territorial, so I have this uncontrollable urge to err... onanically spread my genes all over the cities in which I live... Also, security camera footage? In that resolution, it could be just about any guy with a limp and no clothes on. And an e-mail from 1989? I may have been drunk, but time-travel drunk? I think not." *Timmy farts in support of this defence*
"So... then where were you last night between 9 and 10?" *switches off desk lamp to save on the police's energy bill ("60 Watt lightbulbs? Are you crazy?" they all said at the station, not clarifying whether his craziness would be related to his careless waste of nuclear electricity or to his torture method of shining light on his interrogees - let's assume it's a bit of both)*
"Why I was in that back alley, killing Jimmy..... oh shit!...."
"Oh shit, indeed...."
"Can I say it?"
"Say what?"
"Boys, take him away!"
As luck would have it, Timmy would only spend 18 hours in prison before being released on a technicality, i.e. a technical error at the prison's computer system that caused all cell doors and the front gate to open, allowing Timmy to make a hippity-hop walk outside of his confinement, taking with him hundreds of his new "top" friends...
And all lived happily ever after, except for most of them, who didn't.
