Breakfast Of Champions

We have two network guys in our I.T. department. I'll refer to them as Laurel and Hardy.

A few weeks ago (before all the recent ice stuff), I rode up the elevator with Laurel. My office is on the third floor, but the bulk of I.T. (along with the breakroom) is on the 4th floor.

Laurel pressed 4. Then he looked at me. "Three?" I help up my sack lunch, which needed to go in the fridge. "No, four."

Laurel doesn't always catch nonverbal hints in the morning. "Why aren't you going to three?" I told him, "It's a morning ritual... I have to go to four so I can smell Hardy's breakfast." Laurel laughed.

We got off on four. As we walked into the breakroom, there was Hardy with his English Muffins. There's just something about the way he toasts them... I've never figured out why, but they smell *terrible*.

I looked over at Laurel. All I said was, "See?" Laurel broke down laughing. Hardy had no idea why we had just walked in and started laughing at him.

We explained the conversation, which Hardy enjoyed. He said something about the smell, to which I replied, "Yeah, at least, I'm assuming that's the English Muffins and not just your natural musk."

Without missing a beat, Hardy replied, "Well, English Muffins are actually odorless and tasteless, so that's all me."

If that's the way he smells, I'm gonna pass on the taste test.