Mockers for Hire: The Bernice Fulton Edition

2009 October 13
by mockers

green-sequined-blouse1Mockers for Hire is a professional mocking service provided by  Just paypal us $49.95, give us a mailing address and a description of the person you want mocked and we’ll mock the living shit out of them. (400 word minimum)   We might even berate and verbally abuse them for no additional charge.  What can we say…we love our job. We’ll also provide you a framed print of the mock to leave on their desk while they’re at break.  It beats the hell out of that pathetic, passive-aggressive piece-of-shit note you were going to leave on their chair.   Seriously…college ruled?  The Dollar Store frame and HP color graphics will really show that you care – and the professional mocking will prove to that sexual harrassing sonofabitch that you mean business.  Mockers for Hire – giving people  shit who may or may not deserve it since 2009…Give us a try!

Bernice!  Hey, Bernice Y. Fulton of Ankeny, IA – Come here for a second. We need to inform you of something important –  HOLY CRAP YOU SUCK!!!

Okay, first – you smell weird.  It’s really tough to explain it.  I think Herb in accessories came closest when he guessed it was a cross between old dog piss and lemon scented Pledge furniture polish.  Our guess is that when you choose your outfit for the day, you lay your clothes out on the floor.  We further hypothesized that this is the floor that the dog pissed on a bunch of times before you finally got it house trained.  We then hoped among ourselves that you dust your little condo every single morning for some reason.  Finally, we imagined you spritzing on some perfume as you walk out the door just to fuck with us.  You’re a shrewd, smelly lady Bernice.  The alternate theory is that you’re a freak who’s into lemon-scented dog piss…which is disappointing and less interesting, but I have to admit it’s not as much of a stretch.

Also, it’s currently 2009 and you’re in an office of a company that sells fireplaces.  There’s really no need for Rhinestones and sequins.  Every morning we come in here hung over and pissed at the world only to find your annoying ass shining  under the track lighting that’s above your desk.  The boss originally put those up there so the first receptionist, an attractive German guy named Niclas, would have better lighting when he received the soccer moms into the sales area.  Now that he’s gone and your shiny lemon-piss smelling ass has been installed in his place we can’t even catch a quick nap at our desks because you routinely blast 10,000 foot-candles of shiny in every direction.  Bernice, we can’t sell fireplaces unless we’re able to relax.  We can’t relax if we’re afraid that Dolly Parton’s  Dixie Stampede is going to break out at any minute because you refuse to take off their uniform.  To put it simply – why not try a nice black cotton blouse?  I mean seriously, at some subconscious level you’ve got to be tired of looking like the head of the Vegas chapter of the Retired Stripper’s Union.

Bernice, if you want to engage in some sort of business territory war – we surrender.  You can have the whole place.  Nobody is infringing upon your authority to orientate the new hires – we just wanted to warn the new girl that you were going to invite her over and that she should find any reason at all to get out of it.  Nobody has any interest in procuring the office supplies – we just wanted hand sanitizer because we are tired of our hands smelling like lemony piss after we have to handle stuff that comes off your desk.  And nobody…I repeat nobody wants the job of stocking the women’s bathroom – we simply needed a box of matches, some spray and a scented candle after what you did to it the day after you had to eat all that roasted pig by yourself because no one came over.

Oh, and speaking of that –  we’re not going in for any more of your ‘events’ either, Bernice.  We just want to come in, sell the goddamned fireplaces and go home.  We have no interest in a toga party or a luau (Herb literally threw up after he saw you that day. Me? I just can’t figure out how you got the sequined coconut bra to smell like pee and furniture polish) or a 30’s gangster day or wear your pajamas to work day or even the pig roast you tried to have at your condo. You are going to have to find some way to establish a social existance away from work Bernice.  Given your amazing lack of social skills, we recommend you try walking around downtown.  I mean, you’re already dressing the part.

5 Responses leave one →
  1. 2009 October 13

    But did you have to use the term shiny? I thought I had that exclusive. Thank gawd I don’t smell like lemon pledge dog pee. I like the part about “Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede”. Matter of fact, the last one I went to, it smelled like lemon pledge and dog pizzle.

  2. 2009 October 13

    Excellent mock, Sir! Is this worse or better than being the crazy cat lady?

  3. 2009 October 13
    metten permalink

    You call people sir when you lie.

  4. 2009 October 13

    Well I am offended by this cruel mockery of some poor woman, sir!

  5. 2009 October 15
    KYDave permalink

    We as members of American society need to come up with a socially acceptable way to tell someone that they smell like shit. We had a girl here at work that wouldn’t wear deodorant and apparantly never washed her “monkey” Our office manager had to sit her down and give her specific instructions on how to wash and what kind of deodorant/antiperspirant to buy, otherwise we were going to fire her. Can you image your boss sitting you down and telling you to wash your junk and put some stick in your pits.

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