“I wish I was a newspaper so I could be in your hands all day,” Biheshimiwa alias digital Lady fumed as she approached the sitting room. Without mincing words or turning my eyes from the obituaries page I was reading, I fired back, “I too wish that you were a newspaper so that I would have a different one every day.” This opened a canon of unprintable, which she vomited into my face and left me lying on the sofa set like a deflated condom. Unknowingly, all this had been caused by a brief assignment given to me by boss.
Earlier in the day, the editorial board had met. They went through all CVs in our third rate media house looking for someone to undertake a mission impossible. On my CV they read; Dr.(Debtor) Officer, BSC, (Bachelor of Stoning Cars) MPC (Mad People’s Combination) UON (University of Nowhere) MBA (Masters in Anything) Havard University, PHD, (Permanent Head Damage) in Laughtology, EKB (Elder of the Kitchen Budget), ETC (End of Thinking Capacity) Esquire. The CV was quite impressive to them and my boss to call me immediately.