It's Too What...?

Before the lockdown, I used to leave the house. Sometimes even to go to work. Today, I had a video call with a certain Mr Billy Bob Big - it reminded me of the following adventure we once shared.

Enjoy!

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It's too big.

A biggish chap himself was standing before the altar of my desk in work. He looked awfully serious so I gave a cheeky little grin.

What's too big?

Involuntarily my eye twitched into a wink.

He visibly flinched, obviously his mind was processing an image of my gargantuan penis entering him destructively. Like that bit in Independence Day where they blow up the Mothership.

Hmmph. The document you sent. All the fonts are messed up and the letters are all too big.

I leaned right back in my chair and fixed Billy Bob Big with my best thinking face. To further show my deep thought I cradled my chin in two fingers.

I had indeed sent a document out for review. A perilous process at the best of times working in the line of work that I do. Everyone gets their mitts in. Oh you missed an apostrophe there or I think the shading in the embedded table on page 7 is darker than the company standard.

Which is why I scrutinise everything meticulously before I send it out. So for Big Silly Willy Bob to come before me and state something as daft as It's too big seemed odd indeed.

This merited...

I resisted the temptation to open up the doc at my desk and instead asked Jolly Giant Jilly Job to take me to his desk and show me.

He grinned in impotent satisfaction. I could see him now, the cogs whirring in his brain as he told the fellers at the pub.

That's right, the boomdawg. Got him to my desk I did. Yeah. Showed him that pile of rubbish he had sent out. All the letters were too big. I tell you guys... I destroyed him.

I followed him to his desk, I couldn't help but mimic his rolling sea dog gait. As his legs are like giant redwood trunks he kind of swings them out and round. He looked round.

You heading out on Friday with the guys to the pub?

I rounded up my errant legs and smiled at him kindly.

Nah, I hate all you bams.

He grunted.

We arrived at his desk. He sat in his chair like an iceberg calving into the sea.

See, look. Font is all messed up. It's giant. I can't read it properly.

There was more than a slight glee in his voice.

I pursed my lips. Could it be? Could Bonkers Bold Billy Baps have gotten one over the boomdawg?

I leaned over the continental shelf of his stomach and moved the mouse over the document to the bottom right hand corner. I dragged the zoom slider from 200% back down to a normal 100%. The text shrank back to being legible and not gigantic.

His face fell.

Oh.

Yes.

Sorry. I didn't notice that.

That's ok. You are a pie though.

Um sorry.

I turned and victoriously marched back to my desk leaving Banging Bobby Schmobby baws mumbling and pawing at his pc like an ape from 2001.

It's good to be alive!