I’m not sorry. Elmo has had a rough time. He was rescued from a dumpster and has spent his past few hundred days being passed around my office by one quirky coworker. He’s had a few major operations along the way, and his internal organs have long ago been sold on the Muppet Black Market. Heck, he’s even been run over by a car. Zombie Elmo seems to be something of a work voyeur; I caught Elmo last week peering down at me from the ceiling in my office, his head stuck through the gap between tiles.
I figured, if he’s still haunting this place after his adorable fuzzy heart and voicebox have been removed, best to perform the sacrifice in a circle of deep candle-laden magic in the lair of his dark master. Like so:
Since I set fire to my office last week inadvertently with a Body Shop Spa Wisdom candle (I swear the candle was defective!) this is a solid message. Which somehow ended in Elmo’s master walking into my office shaking his head, saying “That’s some funny @#$%.”