Many of you will recall the picture we posted a few weeks back in commemoration of our glorious return to the world of obscuro-eleemosynaranism.
While at a glance it may look like a stolen stock photo, crudely photoshopped and slapped online at the tail end of a four month long development cycle fueled by Sudafed, frosted poptarts and self-aggrandizement, we assure you this not entirely the case. The aberrations in the image are the result of a very real photo shoot gone terribly, terribly wrong.You see, rather than simply taking a picture of the staff and harmlessly adding the heart background later through the miracle of digital picture manipulation, we wanted our radiant love to feel authentic, powerful. Pure. So we constructed a giant, heart-shaped ball of thermite and dosed the whole thing in a few gallons of nitro. This was, in hindsight, a bad idea, and many of our interns, Reese included, were brave enough to say as much. With a hail of empty threats and accusations of cowardice, we proceeded, but in our defense, they can’t remember half-caf, two sugars, two creams, but suddenly they’re all experts in pyrotechnic safety? No. We don’t think so. Sorry.
So, after we fired up the love-ball, Reese, pictured above third from the right (w/o torso), had only moments before her Guatemalan fair-trade sweater, composed entirely of recycled dried twigs and dehydrated switch grass, engulfed her like a socially-responsible solar flare. By the time the photographer had taken the shot, 70% of her midriff had been lost to the flames.Counter to all known medical science, Reese survived thanks to the efforts of one roguish doctor who’s never been afraid of defying the odds…or playing by his own rules.
Lacking in social graces and boundlessly arrogant he may be, but the man is the country’s leading specialist in poignant Deus Ex Machina, not to mention his in-your-face charisma more than makes up for his staff’s relative banality. Until just recently he had kept Reese alive through an elaborate rig of machines that he assured us “just might work,” and did, except for hour-long intervals every Monday night at eight (seven central) when Reese would come down with mysterious symptoms that invariably lead to high-octane interpersonal drama.Good times. Dwelling was certain he could perpetuate Reese’s state of freakish undeath well into the foreseeable future, but tragically, it was not to be. We here at the Organization decided to hold a roadside candlelight vigil to showcase our solidarity with our felled friend, but since Reese and the vast array of machines keeping her alive were stored in a window-less clean room, we had make it a bedside candlelight vigil instead. In what is now a terribly obvious oversight, the visage of slowly advancing fire held some unfortunate associations for poor Reese.
The chase was spirited but brief. She made it halfway down the hall before someone accidentally dropped their candle in the trail of antiseptic she’d left behind. Her screams echoed down the hospital corridors, and with her dying breath she cursed us with the unholy magicks of her white middle-class ancestry. It was a horrifying and unspeakable sight that will stay with all of us until our dying day. Then Dr. Dwelling made a pithy comment about barbeque. We were all thinking it, but he actually said it! That guy!
But all dry witticisms aside, it was a profound tragedy, and everyone here is dealing with such a deep sense of loss that we've decided to respectfully cancel Margarita Monday: The Wednesday Edition here at the office. Reese will forever be our little road flare of courage, igniting our hearts with the bravery to stand tall for what we believe in and always be true to ourselves. We're sure these sentiments would've meant a lot to Reese had we ever asked her about them.
On a lighter note, next month our Pennzoil Plus/Schlotzsky's Deli Great Tibetan Manhunt/Pastrami Round Up will be winding to a close, with the induction of a new member being announced! Our crack team of profilers are still running applicants through our focus groups and sympathy panels, and we still have room for your application! So log in next month, and remember, continue to give, continue to dream.
Namaste.
Oh, and RIP Reese, you will be missed, fly free little bird, sorry so sloppy.



















