FIFTY-FOUR. Child.
You've temporarily turned into a child -- what do you do?
Denny Crane always knew this day would come. He finds himself saying that a lot lately, which nearly everyone chalks up to a symptom of old age. But, he knows things. He won't go as far as to call himself a psychic, because they're all fakes and phonies, funded by the democratic party. But there are a few things that Denny Crane simply knows without reason or explanation - like, that the world will be over-run with zombies. No one ever believes him, but he has no doubt in the validity of his thoughts. He's had previous theories come true. He knew Harry Potter would live to see 7/22/07 despite the t-shirts and rumors. He knew that Colbert kid from The Daily Show would get his own show when all he was known for was his occasional segment of This Week in God. He knew his sort of son Eric and his little friends would get addicted to World of Warcraft, level solely by killing wild boars, and defeat the evil player who had taken over the realms. Oh, yes. Denny Crane knows a lot of things.
He predicted this day as well, which is why he's had a child-sized suit hanging in the closet of his office for nearly three years now. Everything had seemed perfectly normal when he stepped into the Crane, Poole, & Schmidt building - except for the above-average heat, but he didn't care about that because he had air conditioning. But, the moment he closed the door to his private office, he found himself standing in a pile that was once his suit. Anyone else would have gone into a frenzied state of panic, but not Denny Crane. He merely stepped out of the adult-sized clothes and walked over to the closet. He stood on his tiptoes and opened the door; he found a suit hanging on a rod just his height and grinned at what a genius he just so happened to be. He got dressed quickly and reached into a box on the floor then gave a pretentious sort of smirk. He had a holster custom-made for his child-sized self whenever this day should come, complete with two water guns. Oh, it was a good day to be Denny Crane - but, he felt that way every day.
He ran over to his desk and climbed into the chair. He filled his water pistols with the bottle of water that was seated on a coaster. He snorted and threw the coaster across the room like a frisbee. Once he was locked and loaded, he tossed the empty water bottle into the trash can across the room and awarded himself five points. He reached into the top drawer of the desk - the one he never used - and found a box of crayons and a small stack of coloring books. He sat contentedly at his desk and waited for one of his panicked co-workers to barge into his office - or, for Alan, who would love the plan he was formulating for re-decorating Shirley's office with toilet paper. He was so content in fact, that he uttered with a hint of a lisp, "Denny Crane."
Denny Crane always knew this day would come. He finds himself saying that a lot lately, which nearly everyone chalks up to a symptom of old age. But, he knows things. He won't go as far as to call himself a psychic, because they're all fakes and phonies, funded by the democratic party. But there are a few things that Denny Crane simply knows without reason or explanation - like, that the world will be over-run with zombies. No one ever believes him, but he has no doubt in the validity of his thoughts. He's had previous theories come true. He knew Harry Potter would live to see 7/22/07 despite the t-shirts and rumors. He knew that Colbert kid from The Daily Show would get his own show when all he was known for was his occasional segment of This Week in God. He knew his sort of son Eric and his little friends would get addicted to World of Warcraft, level solely by killing wild boars, and defeat the evil player who had taken over the realms. Oh, yes. Denny Crane knows a lot of things.
He predicted this day as well, which is why he's had a child-sized suit hanging in the closet of his office for nearly three years now. Everything had seemed perfectly normal when he stepped into the Crane, Poole, & Schmidt building - except for the above-average heat, but he didn't care about that because he had air conditioning. But, the moment he closed the door to his private office, he found himself standing in a pile that was once his suit. Anyone else would have gone into a frenzied state of panic, but not Denny Crane. He merely stepped out of the adult-sized clothes and walked over to the closet. He stood on his tiptoes and opened the door; he found a suit hanging on a rod just his height and grinned at what a genius he just so happened to be. He got dressed quickly and reached into a box on the floor then gave a pretentious sort of smirk. He had a holster custom-made for his child-sized self whenever this day should come, complete with two water guns. Oh, it was a good day to be Denny Crane - but, he felt that way every day.
He ran over to his desk and climbed into the chair. He filled his water pistols with the bottle of water that was seated on a coaster. He snorted and threw the coaster across the room like a frisbee. Once he was locked and loaded, he tossed the empty water bottle into the trash can across the room and awarded himself five points. He reached into the top drawer of the desk - the one he never used - and found a box of crayons and a small stack of coloring books. He sat contentedly at his desk and waited for one of his panicked co-workers to barge into his office - or, for Alan, who would love the plan he was formulating for re-decorating Shirley's office with toilet paper. He was so content in fact, that he uttered with a hint of a lisp, "Denny Crane."