>>>Devlin is selling snaks at a not-so-good-visited baseballgame.
>>>Suddenly he goes up to a bunch of guys and talks to them
>>>Devlin: Are you the Earth's Telepath's Front?
>>>Guy#1: What!? The Earth's Telepath's Front!? Pah! We're the Telepath's
>>>Front of Earth!
>>>Guy#2: Really? I allways thought we were the Popular Telepath's Front.
>>>Guy#3: No. The Populars sit over there. *Points at two old men.*
>>
>><head in hands shaking>
>>This is wrong. I know it is, there is no denying it.
>><looks up, you can see the smile>
>>
>>still funny though
>
>"In order to join us you have to REALLY hate the Psi Corps."
>"I do!"
>"Oh? How much?"
>"A LOT!"
>"Okay, you're in." Leader: To prove yourself, you have to write 'Psi Corps go home' on the walls of Leicester Square.
Devlin looks dubiously at the paint brush and bucket red paint held before him and sighs.
--- hours pass ---
A random Psi Cop walks up.
Psi Cop: What do you think you're you doing?
Devlin (without looking up): Painting 'Psi Corps go home' on the wall.
Devlin looks up.
Devlin: ummm...
Psi Cop: How do you spell 'Corps'?
Devlin: C-O-R-E?
PC: C-O-R-P-S.
D: C-O-R-P-S. Right.
Devlin makes the correction.
PC: That's better.
Devlin looks relieved.
PC (continues): Now write it a hundred times.
Devlin looks crestfallen, but gets to work.
-Z
---
We are Dyslexic of Borg. Your ass will be laminated.