Hark! Tis the hour of battle, as the noises of the day do
take up arms and compete for mine attention, like gladiators in the
coliseum of my mind.
The Beeps and Pings of text messages, and the Bodily
Emissions are first to throw down the gauntlet. Mere hecklers, these!
Such pucks are easily vanquished.
The Unanswered Ringtone poseth a greater menace; this
troublesome vandal shan’t go down so easily, but by my blade, his fate
Then cometh the Sidebar Conversation, clamoring with cacophony, dazzling with the drool of gossip.
But in rode the Gushing Extrovert, confounded dolt! O,
how he doth prattle on about minutiae. And lo, he didst slay the
Conversation with sheer tomfoolery!
What, ho! The Conditioner of Air hath raised the stakes,
with his terrible rattle, a most venomous beast! Accompanied by the
guttural clangor of his brother, the Jackhammer. Belligerent scalawags;
these two have a taste for blood.
Ah, but tis none I fear so much as the Whispered
Conversation – the most dreaded of them all! With muted speech, he veils
his meaning in wizardry, yet compels mine ear to listen – nay, I cannot
match wits with this ruffian! The battle is lost!