Quote:
Originally Posted by FLReWrite
I think mine believes its name is 'C'mon!'
"C'mon, don't do this to me!"
"C'mon, don't you see how gorgeous she is?"
"C'mon, not again!"
"C'mon, please, just one more time..."
I could go on.
|
Ex girlfriend and I were in bed post coitus when she begins to scratch my abdomen in that nonchalant sort of way. I twitch. She giggles. She does it again deliberately. I squirm. Being the smart ass, sharp witted, sarcastic, sick fuck I am I tell her to stop tickling me there and just "tickle my Elmo."
Boom. It stuck. From then on we had a great way to refer to him around her kids. Even around polite company. Every commercial, image or innocent reference to Elmo brought a wry smile to our faces.
Now? He has no name. He shall remain nameless. Deep undercover. Unless you have his two closest friends under pressure, you will never know. Not even I know. I don't want to know. That's how sensitive his friends are about compromising his identity.
If you get a hold of just one of his confidants though, you can squeese the intelligence out of all three. Apparently it's highly classified Top Secret shit and all. I can't get into it right now. Just the thought of the force it would take makes me weep.