Thirty nine year old Chad Drew has been struggling with depression issues recently, trying to come to grips with the cosmic peril he's found his life in, reluctantly leading a sterile, vacuous, existence, depleted of any emotion. Chad may have given up on happiness, but he's retaliating nonetheless, determined to share his misery at any cost."I may be broken but I'm going down laughing." Drew says. "Some people go out and buy a sports car, I'm gonna fuckin' torture everyone around me. Everyday last week I've come into work with a huge smile plastered on my face, and gone out of my way to be extra cheery and excessively polite to everyone. I can tell it's really starting to get on every ones nerves. People have been giving me dirty looks and my supervisor has been asking me if everything is alright."
"This week I kicked it up a notch and began to whistle down the hallways, every time I'm in the men's room, the elevator and even at my desk while working. I'll whistle the entire theme song to Bonanza, the Flintstones, recite the lollipop guild beginning to end, over and over, and over. I can see the teeth grinding, eye twitching, temple throbbing rage mounting."
Drew's coworkers are not amused. "This guy's a fuckin' asshole. I have no idea what his problem is. I think he's a half-tard or somethin'. I swear if I hear that Willy Wonka bullshit again, I gonna smack him right in the face." Said Drew's cube mate.
Sally Witherspoon, who sits in the next aisle asked "What's his problem? What the fuck has he got to be whistling about? I swear if I hear that Willy Wonka bullshit again, I gonna smack him right in the face."
Drew's manager is also puzzled by the situation. "I've asked him if everything was alright three times this week. You think he'd shut the fuck up already. I think he's on drugs. I swear if I hear that Willy Wonka bullshit again, I gonna smack him right in the face."
Chad Drew is yet to sport a shiner, but at least he's finally smiling.
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