Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, that you turned in some important paperwork to your boss or teacher, and on that paperwork you had doodled pictures of yourself wearing either a halo or devil horns, and a clown floating in the clouds above you, looking on.

Do you suppose your boss/teacher might then call you in for a little chat? You know, just to see how the ol’ home life was going? Maybe see if you needed anything, support and/or prescription-wise?

Because, as you may have guessed, this really isn’t a purely hypothetical question.

I don’t know what’s going on here, but I fear for the dog’s future.

In fact, from the looks of things I’d say a few of these wreckerators are one more “That’s Karl with a Q” away from a destructive binge that ends with their pole-vaulting the counter and riding the floor waxer out in a blaze of glory.

“Go ahead, punk. Tell me you want sprinkles again.“

So here’s an idea, bakeries: Why not hire a psychologist to come in every now and then, you know, just to browse through the cakes? That way, when something like this pops up:

He or she will know it’s time to schedule another stress seminar.

Or even to stage some kind of intervention:

Um. Yeeeeah. When dark oily shadow blobs start sweet talking the customers, I’d say another sexual harassment seminar might be in order.

Don’t worry, Amy W., Katie M., Magic Girl, Krystal K., & Kate F.; I hear they serve cake at those.

Like this? Check out the the originating blog – they’re sure to have a lot more content you’ll enjoy!:
It’s Always the Quiet Ones