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Department of Ecology, Lacey

Updated: Aug 3, 2019

Stairwell Aficionado

School is up; kick out the jams! I ventured off campus, finally, I know. I received so many messages and hate mail from all of you non-existent fans--you know who you aren't. On a slightly foggy Thurddd (sorry, just had a hiccup-turned-mini-stroke) Thursday I met my girlfriend for lunch at the Department of Ecology. Much like a victim of Volkswagen's emissions-cheating vehicles, I felt dooped by the cafeteria stir fry, only I wasn't going to receive a reparations check.

I began my ascent up the metal staircase, admiring each steel serrated anti-slip stair tread. My girlfriend's cubicle is on the third floor; I gave her a final kiss before I got to second base with my date on the fourth floor. Seeing as these stairs are composed of debossed holes, I could have easily gotten to third base, but I've digressed. I knelt down and put my face to the steel, phone's camera out and recording. Unfolding my tongue, I draped it across the raised buttons then made eye contact with a security guard whose nipples were nearly bursting through his shirt and his taser was pressed against his genitals on a low setting. He immediately stopped and then crab-walked over to the door where he struggled to open the security door with his keycard. He swiped repeatedly but to no effect. I, having ingested microbes of the Department of Ecology structure, was now one with the building. I calmly grabbed his arm which was still swiping frantically at the chip-reader, lowered my face to the insubordinate machine, and tongued every inch of it.

The familiar, approving 'ding' sounded out. I led the guard inside and let the door close. "Can I call you?" he pleaded through the glass. "Let's take this relationship," I replied, "one step at a time." Meanwhile Pete Townsend was making early arrangements for a grave wide enough to turn in.

As I swaggered away with no-less-than two popped collars and my Ray-Ban shades, I thought about what I just tasted--the stairs' raised buttons were quite a treat; like, the word "groovy" comes to mind, Scoob. Descending down the stairwell was actually a bit frightening, as I could see below me quite easily. It worked out for my benefit, however, as I regurgitated noodles through the debossed holes and onto the ground floor where some animal would find sustenance for itself and family. And that's the cycle of life here at the DoE.

I give this stairwell 3 ecologically-friendly oil-spills out of 5.

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