Count to 50 before a staff member

Zounds! It is a sad day when such creativity is, evidently, overrun for the insatiable need to be irksome and defy the obtuse need to sally up the counting tree with wanton and overwhelming abandon.
 
Hi BrookdeDi! Counting down against the singular masses again, I see. Well, sometimes I feel as if I'm merely one of only a few, but that makes it amusing for other reasons.
 
One man falls, dead as a door nail. Though nobody seems to know what's particularly dead about a door nail. Why not a door knob, or knocker? Yet, knob or knocker, the man was dead. And this man was Jacob Marley. CUE OVERTURE!
 
Hey now. Don't shut that one left door in the control room. I mean, c'mon. Foxy just wants a hug. He won't eat you. Or put you in a puppet that ends up pulverizing your organs and likely shredding your bones. It's all good, right?
 
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