Epic Tales of Hyperbole

Wade Joye recently told me that whenever I’m feeling dry and lacking in creativity I should just blog about him… That’s not bad, but I thought I would take it to a hole nutha’ level. (Sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I heard that a lot at C3 last week.)

Instead of simply writing about Wade, I’ve decided to completely integrate him into the post by creating a story around him. A couple of weeks ago I was at the hardware store getting copies of trailer keys and I happened to notice a lovely little pink princess key. Because of who God made me to be, I didn’t just see an annoying pink key, I saw an opportunity. I proceeded to have the clerk make a copy of our office key. It took me about three seconds to decide who I would bestow this gift upon. Wade Joye.

That next Sunday, I borrowed his keys to “open a trailer lock” never mind that I had twenty of these keys in my truck. I made the switch and attempted to remove myself from the situation by passing the keys to Larry Hubatka. Wade quickly came for his keys, Larry handed them off and Wade simply stated “these aren’t my keys.” Oh but they were my friend Wade… Plus one princess key. I even thought ahead, I made sure to educate anyone who might be able to give him another key.

But he quickly replaced it with a standard key… I don’t know who the traitor is, but I will flush you out. Oh yes, I will. He refuses to reveal his source.

I would not, however, be deterred. That was entirely too short lived; I would have to take it to the next level. There I was in the office, I couldn’t find anyone I needed to speak to and just out of the corner of my eye, I saw them. Wade’s keys. All of them. Oh yes, I didn’t even think about it I grabbed them jumped in the truck and headed to Walmart. Nothing not a single pink key. On to Ace Hardware where I found lots of pretty pretty keys. I found pink ones and purple ones, fuchsia keys with flowers and lavender with butterflies. I replaced everything I could possibly replace, I even contemplated replacing his car key, but it had an embedded microchip. Without that he would not be able to start his car. (Still very tempting.)

I replaced the keys and waited for the delightful sounds of surprise, shock and frustration that was to come. Later that day he tried to talk me into giving back his keys by pleading to my sympathetic side (as if) stating that he was driving Pastor Furtick to the airport later. That only sweetened the pot.

I tried to assure Wade that I only torture the people I truly care about, but that seemed little comfort to him as he accepted the fate of his keys. But lets not forget that it was Wade that declared me his Arch Enemy (a story for another time).

Thanks Wade, you’re right, I think I will write about you every time I’m feeling dry… It’s helped a lot.