“What the hell’s that racket?” growls the boss.
It’s not a racket, I say. Joe’s been beating the copier with a five iron.
The boss tells me to make Joe stop, so I head for the copier room.
Joe’s got a five iron in his hands, and he’s beating the copier.
Pieces are flying all over the room, but the jam has yet to clear.
I sigh. This is not what it says in the owner’s manual.
The owner’s manual calls for a six iron.
I try to tell Joe this, but his caddy keeps me out of the drive-line.