Hot Pocket Incident

I would have never believed a hot pocket could cause so much misery,
but, it did and I lived to tell the story. Monday 11.23 Work was slow,
so I decided to take lunch early. Down the hall I went to pop a hot
pocket in the microwave and then go out for a smoke as the pocket of
cheese slowly melted.
Down below I shared a smoke with an assortment of circus freaks and
then went back up. Down the hall to the break room I began to smell the
flavor of low-grade pepperoni and cheap tomato paste. As I walked
passed the various cubes people were holding their noses and repeating
expletives. I decided it would be best if I let the pocket go, you
know, take one in the arm rather than experiencing the embarrassment of
walking down the hall with the hated pocket that stunk up the whole
office. So, I simply walked away. "Did they clean it up?" It was my
manager. "Clean what up?" I said. "The pizza that blew up." "Excuse
me?" "Someone put a pizza or something in the microwave and it blew
up." "Oh, really, kay, no, I didn't see it." I went back to my desk and
sat down and began emailing people randomly and asking if they wash
with Tide as I usually do about that time of day. Then it occurred to
me, did anyone see me put the pocket in the microwave? Nope. I then
brought Outlook up to check my email when I saw the lone message.
"Doctor" I opened it and read as follows.

Does anyone have any burn ointment? Sandra Blais suffered a large burn
and we are trying to treat her until the medics arrive.

Jesus God, what had I done? Could this be the same...

Then I heard Sandra screaming as they took her downstairs.
"IT BURNS, GOD HELP ME, IT BURNS!!!!!!!! FUCKING PIZZA BLEW UP IN MY
FACE!!!!!!!!!! IT BURNS!!!!!!!!!!!!"

and then:

"We'll find the bastard, Sandra. We'll find him."

I slumped in my chair and went through every possible scenario that
could reveal the truth. Cameras? Doubt it. Did anyone see me walking
out of the room? Still couldn't pin it on me. Just when will my refund
check arrive? As soon as it's taken out of some elderlies' social
security.

Hours later it came to me: Did I leave my bag.....

Christ, I put my name and phone number and list of dependents on the
bag containing the hot pockets in the fridge. You know, so that
everyone will know not to take my lunch and toys. It was now up to me
to recover the evidence.

Down to the break room I went skirting passed the pizza juice flecked
on the floor by the pizza victim.

The room was a mess, I didn't think a hot pocket could hold so much
tangy sauce. It was on the floor, walls and ceiling. To my worst fears
I found a man slowly packaging the microwave in a box marked
"evidence."

"Can we help you?" A large man in a suit asked me. His hands were
gloved in rubber. "Uh, yeah, I just came to get my lunch, is everything
all right?" "No, sir, it's far from alright. It's really fucked up.
Some damn dirty bastard left a hot pocket time bomb in here and
half-melted a woman's face." "Oh, really, I'm sorry. Can I do
anything?" "Well, what the woman could really use is your best wishes."
"And a skin graph." The other detective whispered. I opened the fridge.
The bag was gone.
"You have a good day now."
I said "I will, we're finger painting later."

I was surely fucked. I walked back to my desk and found another email,
this time marked "your bag."

Matt,
Your bag of hot pockets and toys was found in the men's bathroom, if
you would like to pick them up from my desk I'm down the hall - third
cube. Roger

The plot was thickening like so much pizza sauce on a Costco employee.
I went back to the crime scene.

The detectives left as I walked in. "Respect yourself, and the law." He
said as he left. "I am the law!" I giggled. "What?" I opened the other
microwave, the one that was still intact. Yes, there was my hot pocket
lying innocently in the microwave with only a bit of sauce
residue.

Who planted the exploding hot pocket? Why? Who set me up? All these
questions ran through my head as I devoured the innocent hot pocket
making large smacking sounds and staring menacingly at a woman at the
soda machine.

I decided to seek the perpetrator out and bring him to justice.

I went to Roger's cube for my bag.
"Thanks, Roger. Say, did you find anything strange or out of the
ordinary near the bag?" "No, not really. Ummm....actually there was a
small midget masturbating in the corner and giggling to himself." "No,
he's always there. I mean something out of the ordinary." "Oh, well, Ed
Asner was combing his hair and laughing to himself about how he was
finally gonna get you. But, other than that, nothing." That was it! My
arch nemesis, Ed Asner, had done it again. How could I have not thought
about Ed Asner the man who brought us such TV shows as...um....he was
in that one with Mary Tyler Moore and... I think he played Scrooge
once...but, that's for another story that I don't want to write about.
The fact is Ed Asner has been trying to get me ever since I
accidentally hit him with my car several times. But, again, that is
another story. I now had to find Ed Asner and bring him to justice. And
to do that I would have to think, act, and even hum like Ed Asner. That
night I stayed up late cutting my hair and pasting it to my back. By
midnight I was partially bald and had the back hair of a yeti. Then I
began drinking milk and puking it up until I acquired the phlegmy
sounding voice of Ed Asner. And then I hummed the theme to Mary Tyler
Moore.

"That's it!" I exclaimed. The grocery clerk I was getting change from
jumped. "Listen, grocery clerk, I know where Ed Asner is and how to
bring him to justice for detonating a hot pocket in a woman's face!"
"Paper or plastic?"

I left the store and drove to Denny's where I found Ed Asner eating a
lamb chop omelet and giggling to himself.

"The jig is up, Ed! Turn yourself in!"
"Never!" Ed ran for the door, but he only made it so far before he was
hit by a semi truck and quietly died. The End