Marty Grimes and The Down Ward Spiral

Call me Mr. G. or just Marty if you prefer. Some years ago... Or was it months? Well anyway, this is the story of how It all started, this is the story of how I died. when I moved from Springfield, Missouri to Port Gibson, Mississippi.I was looking for a new job at a Nuclear plant that was hiring at the time, this was when I met my new boss, Mr. W. He was pretty short, standing at a shocking four feet tall, and he was balding quite profusely with scabs all over the top of his skullet. He constantly scratched the top of his head making me feel extremely uncomfortable. And his face was an ungodly sight beyond description. His eyes look in the opposite direction, his teeth are sticking out even when his mouth is closed. It was ungodly. But anyway so he said "Welcome aboard." and approached his hand toward me offering a handshake and I reluctantly accepted. I noticed little bugs hopping around on his head so I knew shaking his hand was a mistake.Mr. W. guided me to my workstation, I asked him "What does the W in your name stand for?" He looked at me, or at least I think he did, and he said "William, what about the G in your name?" I responded "Grimes." He shook his head and said "Nice.". As I made it to my working quarters, Mr. William introduced me to this strange-looking man with a reverse mow hawk, small tiny eyes, a gigantic nose, missing teeth, and balls on his chin. Mr. Williams said to me with a gigantic grin "Marty, meet Peter Larson." Peter laughed in a way I can only describe as a camel sound. But then he started to go on and on for hours on end about he's a celebrity. It was wild.