Trapped Underneath Your Girlfriend Day!
You phone for help. You phone Steve.
"She's dead and she's on top of me."
Steve tells you to try and shove her off of you, asks you how she died.
"Cancer," you say. " This is really difficult. She won't budge."
Steve asks you where you are.
"I'm not sure. It looks like a warehouse."
Steve asks if anyone else is there.
"Look, I don't have time for 20 questions. I'm really broken up over the death of my girlfriend. And I just need someone to get her off of me."
Steve says he understands, but he can't send help unless he knows where you are.
"Makes sense to me. Sorry I lost it there for a second. Bad day."
Steve doesn't say anything.
"Dead girlfriend and all," you continue. "On top of me and everything," you add. "Shortening my breath, cutting off the blood to my brain," you clinch the deal.
"Okay," Steve says. "I'll devote my every waking breath to freeing you from the weight of your dead girlfriend."
"You're the best," you say.
"Smoking hurts us all," Steve says and hangs up.
You wait, occasionally putting a kiss to your dead girlfriend's earlobe. With every kiss, she's just a little bit colder.
Happy Trapped Underneath Your Girlfriend Day!
