How I hope dodgeball will go tonight
Me: I’m really good at dodgeball!
Group of attractive ladies on the other team: We can tell by the way you got everyone out on our team except for us!
Me: Let’s call a truce. I don’t want to have to hurt you with how hard I throw the ball.
Group of attractive ladies on the other team: What else do you have that’s hard?
Me: (alluringly) I’ll give you one guess.
Group of attractive ladies on the other team: Not your abs!
Me: Not funny. Seriously, you’re making fun of me in my fantasy? How is that fair?
(Ladies giggle. Group of attractive ladies and I exit the gym. Once we’re in a dark alley, while I’m in the process of removing my pants, they descend on me and begin striking each of my pressure points with their well-manicured fingers. My wallet is stolen. I wake up the next day on the side of a highway with the suspicion that I am missing a few vital organs.)
Next day at work
Co-worker: So, Lee! How’d dodgeball go last night?
Me: The usual. Got everyone out on the other team except for the most attractive women and then we had an orgy.
Co-worker: I think your nose, eyes and the top of your head are bleeding.
Me: Battle scars, you know!
Co-worker: You seem to have written, “We took your liver” in permanent marker on your arm.
Me: Haha. That’s a joke my friends played on me!
(I collapse into a pool of my own blood.)
