And her shoes were number 9

Today in the office, we are plagued by two individuals whom I will name. One is Lloyd van Prague. I swear. That's the guy's real name. How would it be possible for anyone to take someone serious named Lloyd van Prague? It sounds like something out of a W.C. Fields movie. "Ahhh... What a euphonious appellation!" Lloyd is described by Staffaella, who has been fielding his calls, as never ever using pronouns, but referring to people by their full names

The other person is named Dar-Lynn. She pronounces it with the accent on the second syllable, but Staffellina, who has been on the phone with her all day, is a native of New Orleans, and can't stop herself from stressing the first syllable. In effect, referring to this woman she's never met as "Darlin'." And that that word is just bringing out her long suppressed drawl. So there she is, "Wha thas fahn, Darlin', Ah'll make sho-ah to fax that t'you raht away. Y'hear?," sounding like a sketch on the Carol Burnett show. I respond by breaking into a Huckleberry Hound-esque "In a cavern, in a canyon, excavaaaaating for a mine, lived the minor forty-niner and his darlin' Clementine..."

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