I was working my way through the search line at the airport. Lost in thought, I was pondering how to get more production out of certain writers at No Treason. I got to the point where I was asked to turn over my toiletries in a clear plastic bag, and for some reason I suddenly scrawled “Kip Condor Is A LazyBones!” on it.
“What’s this about?”, asked an impertinent TSA screener, holding up the bag.
I pinned him with an icy stare, like a matador would stare down…
…well, in this case, a sheep.
“It’s… a… long… story…”, I spat the words softly, lacing each syllable with infinite contempt.
“Whatever”, he replied, looking terribly bored as he passed the bag along.
“Have a nice flight”, droned the insufferable quisling as I was collecting my belongings.
I froze him the patented icy stare again, this time for a full three seconds, until I summarily dismissed him with a scornful, “See you later.”
As I turned away, I could swear I heard him say, “Baa, now.”