Back in college my RA made a point of asking me what I was doing every time I passed his door, which I had to do fairly frequently. It was polite interest on his part, but I have a strange sense of humor. So instead of replying with, "Going to the library" or "Consuming a dangerous level of alcohol" I would instead tell him that I was setting up a meth lab or feeding the nest of ravenous mongooses. Obviously I began small, introducing more and more outrageous stories as the year went on. By and large he enjoyed this routine, because who doesn't enjoy hearing about pitting the leprechauns and fairies against each other in coke filled fights to the death.
Well he did until one night.
He asked me what was up and I nonchalantly answered with, "Disposing of a dead hooker."
That of course made him laugh. Until me and friend walked back by, carrying a very bulky rug between us.
