A potluck puzzler.

Two office workers were talking.

“You ask him.”

“No, you ask him.”

“I asked him yesterday.”

“But I can’t understand him.”

“No one can. Just do your best.”

Grumbling, Adams walked up to his boss’s desk where the boss himself looked up in acknowledgement of his visitor.

“Kabay hell poo?” the boss mumbled through his crooked mouth.

“Yes, I’m making sure we’re still on for the potluck tomorrow.”

“Pop fluck? Shell pop fluck chaffe ahead bawled wide wit read poker doubts!”

Adams stood facing his boss in confusion. “So you want us to shave our heads bald and paint them white with red polka dots?”

“Whad?” the boss raised his voice. “Whad dust tattoo witta pop fluck?”

The confusion was so overwhelming that it felt like the entire room was spinning. Adams had to hold his head in place as he staggered back to his cubicle where his co-worker was awaiting his return.

“Well? Are we having the potluck tomorrow or not?”

“I don’t know, but I think we’d better stock up on shaving cream.”



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