The Personal Jetpack: The Gift That Keeps GivingMr. Scoop is easy to buy for. He wants simple things: a bunker, a rocket, a jet pack. Oh yes. "If I had a bunker," says Mr. Scoop, "things would be different." When I ask him how they'd be different, he just looks at me and shakes his head. Then he goes back to his plans for strategic landmines in the front lawn in lieu of in-ground sprinklers. "The town won't let us use 'em in the summer anyway. Water conservation." But, if you ask him about the jetpack, he can barely contain his glee. "With a jetpack, and a rocket launcher, my enemies will rue the day...rue the day!" "Rue what day? And what enemies?" I know it's pointless. He won't tell me. I decide to change the subject. "The neighbors came by. They wanted to know if we'd seen their cat." And then he just smiles again.
4 comments:
Good Lord Mr. Scoop rules!!! At this point I can only assume you're trying to pimp your husband out.
(Fine... how much?)
It's good to see that Dennis Franz has apparently found a second career in rocketeering.
You're the coolest wife ever if you buy him that!
I had a jet pack for a few days, but the backs of my legs roasted like hams, so I gave it to the 6 year old next door. He's somewhere in orbit now, the fucker was still set for my weight.
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