Flaming Depth

The dead midget in the coffin isn't dead. In fact, he's going to wake up right at the most inopportune time and the drugged out dude who thought the coffin was moving and making noises earlier is going to have a total relapse and everything is going to erupt in a frenetic self-concluding crisis-climax-denouement The End.

Work meetings are like a bad indie comedy. Obviously thought out by intellegent people, with quirky banter that can me mostly interesting. But it's usually just a slow, predictable train-wreck. You know the characters: A boss so out of touch all they can do is try to keep up and interject business-class buzzwords at random intervals. Two or three young go getters who talk the most vigorously and engage in the occasional slapstick joke just to keep you awake. Bunch of 'steady bettys' who only understand every 3rd word and don't really want to deviate from 'the way it's always been'. Anyone who's been around the block enough can see that it's going no where, but there's no stop button. You can only hope you don't get caught up in the nonsensical minutia and drag the thing out longer by trying to add any new ideas or common sense to equation.

You rented it, take your licks and hope the disk is scratched. That's the only way you're getting out early.