One can only make so many pot holders until the bunker walls start closing in and before I locked myself in my bunker yesterday scientists believed the threshold for such activity was somewhere around 45 days. Well, I’m going to tell those idiots right now that a person’s mental capacities give out much sooner that than the estimated 45 days. This morning I found myself buried in pot holders and empty Guinness cans and by that time, roughly 6 AM, I knew that I wouldn’t last another five minutes staring at the cinder block walls of my own personal bunker. So, I punched the code into the keypad of my bunker door and moments later it opened. I have to say I was relieved to see that the world wasn’t a charred nuclear mess but at the same time I was disappointed to think that George W. was still in charge of the country. What I did see when I opened the door though was Cindy Lou and she was wearing a thick layer of tanning accelerant and some sort of hula skirt and coconut bra. “Yeah, I get it,” I said, “It’s warmer where you live. Do you need to rub it in?”

“No, but I need you to rub some tanning accelerant on my back,” she said.

“Right,” I said but just as I went to take the tanning accelerant from her hand I noticed a terrible screeching sound.

“What is that?” I asked.

“It’s your alarm,” Cindy Lou said.

“Damn, this was just getting good,” I said.

“Good-bye,” she said.

I opened my eyes and awoke in my bunker on a bed of potholders, the smell of tanning accelerant on my hands…