You know those douchebags that work in your office? The guys that respond "reply to all" to those all-office emails with quips they deem to be hilarious? The source email says "Meeting at 2:30" and Phil from three cubicles to your left replies to all with:
"I'll be there - but I won't be sitting next to Steve. That leaky pen proved to be a problem for your new khakis at the last meeting, wouldn't you say, Steve?"
Not to be outdone, Steve replies to all with:
"I'll make sure to bring the red pen and sit right next to you, Phil. It will go great with your ketchup stain from lunch!"
HAHAHAHAHHA! What a couple of clever assholes! Meanwhile, your Inbox is now cluttered with Abbot and Costello's back and forths while you sit there imagining a sequence of events that involve those two comedic wizards somehow being hit by a train. You know the douchebags I'm talking about, right? Well, if these guys worked in the same office as John McClane, McClane would break their necks with his bare hands and remove their balls with a butter knife, and not necessarily in that order.
McClane showed us all that you don't need to broadcast your jokes to everyone within a two-block radius. All you need is yourself, and if YOU think you are funny, who the f*** cares what anyone else thinks? Remember when McClane was crawling through the ventilation shaft while being hunted by bad guys with guns?
MCCLANE: Now I know what a TV dinner feels like.
He was alone, in a life or death situation, and he still was able to reel off a one-liner that was not said simply to gain the admiration of his peers. Nope, McClane's joke was strictly for McClane, proving that true jokesters don't need to share their thoughts with eighty people at work via the wonder of electronic mail. McClane wouldn't like email, anyway. As far as he is concerned, progress peaked with frozen pizza.
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